


Star Wars: Autonomous II

by ChaotiCookie



Series: Star Wars: Autonomous [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon, Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:07:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 149,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26282398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaotiCookie/pseuds/ChaotiCookie
Summary: It has been two years since Durmónia began her training under Maul and continues to mute the Force's pleas of fulfilling her fate, but soon it will take action along with the consequences of ignoring its warnings for so long.
Relationships: Darth Maul/Female OC, Darth Maul/OC, Darth Maul/Original Character(s), Darth Maul/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Star Wars: Autonomous [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1860439
Comments: 216
Kudos: 85





	1. ACT I: Móni

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm sorry it took so long to get posting again. After several revisions and like... a whole lotta drafts it's finally here.  
>  ~~hope it was worth the wait kinda panicking~~
> 
> Thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy Autonomous II!

**A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....**

After months of trade deals and hunts to appease the Black Sun’s many requests and keep the gigoran’s settled in peace on Andelm IV, Móni was able to maintain them under her control and the race of white giants had finally received their freedom with a few loose strings: they could not receive work elsewhere or leave the planet. With no real chains attached to the crime syndicate, Clan Nebak have been helping their fellow race survive the Imperial occupation on Gigor through several channels of remote factions who have been sparking protests across the galaxy.

Crimson Veil has been prospering under its expansion in the underworld, with Móni continuing her part in forming new alliances and contributing in small jobs for the syndicates, but Maul still needed the influence of those who operated closely with the Empire and its politics. Well acquainted with the affluent part of the galaxy, Dryden Vos made several proposals to a member of the Commerce Guild and the owner of a shipbuilding corporation who had many connections with the guild’s leaders and its members. However, Executive Owin Surk had fallen silent in the middle of negotiations and Maul had taken it upon himself to make him talk.

Currently, Móni was in the middle of a heist in a medical facility on Carida in the Colonies Systems. The planet also held a base for an Imperial Academy but her dear friend was in desperate need of equipment and she wasn’t going to let a swarm of mediocre soldiers who couldn’t shoot a bolt between the eyes get in her way…

***

**A Crown of Flowers**

Purus Medical Center was among the most highly regarded hospitals in the system with their groundbreaking discovery—in the time of the High Republic—of a cure for a rare disease carried amongst several species when in the womb. Their fame continued to escalate and were the top pharmaceutical source for advanced medicine against a number of illnesses, rehabilitation, severe wounds, and respiratory functions. The facility carried its prestige inside and out, their halls glossed with sanitation and gleamed with a hue of soft blues and whites. The tranquil setting lost some of its sheen from the Empire’s banners displayed throughout and the stormtroopers who guarded every exit and entrance; always on alert for the many who sought medical attention without the proper documentation to be accepted.

Whirring down a corridor blaring red with alarms was a service droid with its body spray painted silver to blend in with the medical droids who walked or hovered about.

“ **Betts** ,” Qar-Tan’s voice whispered through her comms. “ **Where’s Móni? Why is the whole place going on lockdown?** ”

“How should I know?”

“ **We’re already at the room with all the penicillin stims we need.** ”

“Alright.”

The comms muffled on the other end followed by harsh whispers between two people.

“ **Listen here you stupid, worthless piece of scraps** ,” Shysha broke through. “ **She’s not answering us, and you were the last one she contacted**.”

“What do you want me to do? Go back and save her from the den of stormtroopers she woke up?”

“ **What**?” Qar-Tan and Shysha shouted in unison.

“Móni is contacting me,” Betts shut down her audio sensors at the explosive argument they were trying to have with her, “Goodbye.”

She switched transmissions and was met with an equally riled being.

“ **Betts!** ” Móni huffed with blaster fire in the background. “ **You better be at the pharmaceutical wing**.” 

“Getting there.”

“ **How are you not there already?** ” Her aggravation reached a high pitch.

“I’m not the one who decided to press random buttons and summon a legion.”

“ **I didn’t--!** ” A stormtrooper choked over the comms followed by another who hailed orders over their men. “ **I wasn’t pressing them randomly. I was looking for something.** ”

There was a long and speculative pause that ached with judgment, “You pressed the wrong thing didn’t you?”

Betts was picking up blaster fire through her internal and external audio sensors. Around the corner behind her, Móni slid across the floor and collided her shoulder and helmet covered head against the wall, red bolts shooting past her.

“Roll faster!”

“I roll how I please.”

Móni rushed after the droid, propelling herself with the Force and pulled Betts with her past the threshold that reached the end of the corridor. She shoved the service droid toward a panel.

“Can you close the blast doors now, please?” She ducked behind the wall when a collection of white Imperial soldiers fired at them. One threw a thermal detonator and she Force pushed it back at them, forcing them to fall back before the explosion.

Her scomp link already in the port, Betts turned the gears and shut out the stormtroopers temporarily.

“Let’s go, let’s go,” Móni shoved Betts to get moving. “And close the other one that’s on the way there. Gotta stall them as long as we can.”

“Perfect. More work,” the droid moseyed along after her master.

Qar-Tan observed both ends of the corridor, biting away his nerves to his nails, “Where is she?”

“I should have seen this coming,” Shysha moved two cold crates on repulsorlifts. “The woman is a walking disaster.”

“I’m not worried about the stormtroopers,” with two hands he rubbed the thick skin of his hairless head then down his face.

Shysha dialed down her temper when she gave her friend’s distress more thought, “You know Móni is the last person in the entire universe to let Kyp down. He’s going to be fine.”

“I know,” he flexed his mouth to the side at a poor attempt of reassurance.

“Speaking of which,” Shysha put a hand on a hip at Móni speeding down the hall.

“You have them?” Her voice carried down to them.

“Obviously,” Shysha stepped aside for Móni to examine the crates. “Heard you decided to start a little party.”

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “Oops.”

“Get back in!” Qar-Tan shoved the others inside the room. “A probe droid!”

The storage room was chilled to maintain a proper temperature for the medicine stocked within; shelves of canisters, crates, and stim cartridges of many fluids contained behind locked cases, one of which was missing two crates.

“We’re going to need a new escape route,” Móni whispered. “Blocked the one we had planned to stop the Imperials.”

“Of karkin’ course,” Shysha turned to Betts expectedly—the droid’s photoreceptors shining bright in the dark and staring into nothing. “Hello! Did you not hear what Móni just said?”

“Pipe down,” Qar-Tan scolded.

Betts' vocabulator glowed a groan before displaying the facility’s blueprints from her holographic projector.

“Here,” Móni pointed to an exit on one of the rooftops. “Where that protocol droid came from is a way to here.”

“We have to go through a medbay to get there, though,” Qar-Tan zoomed into the area. “How are we getting through? The whole place is on lockdown no thanks to you.”

“Sorry, okay?” Móni pressed her fingers to the wall, feeling through the Force for the probe droid and stormtroopers. “I was… looking for something.”

“What were you looking for?”

“Instead of sealing our exit, she contacted an Imperial officer,” Betts cut through swiftly.

“You watched me do all this and didn’t say anything?” Móni dragged her fingers down the black helmet’s face. “I hate you,” she moaned.

Qar-Tan pinched the bridge of his nose, “You two are the worst to team up with. Ever.”

“Shut up,” Shysha waved at them. “There’s a maintenance shaft here that leads towards the roof. Thing is, it’s located a little close to the landing pad.”

Qar-Tan hummed his skepticism, “There are definitely going to be Imperial troops there.”

“We don’t have time to find another option,” Móni pressed the door panel. “Let Zione know we’re changing the rendezvous point. Let’s go.”

At the maintenance shaft Betts was splicing through, Shysha noticed Móni take a sharp inhale.

“What’s wrong?”

“I think they know where we are.”

“That’s not good,” Qar-Tan had a blaster raised with insulated gloved hands.

Shysha slapped Betts’ head, “What’s taking so long?”

“They’ve locked down the shafts as well.”

A probe droid came around the corner and blasted them on sight. Móni pulled Qar-Tan away from getting hit and deflected the bolts back to the droid.

“Time’s up, Betts.”

When the shaft opened a group of stormtroopers ran into the vicinity and opened fire at them.

Móni Force pushed the unit to the ground, buying them a few seconds time, “You guys ready?”

“Ready for what?”

Qar-Tan got his answer when he was vaulted by the Force up the shaft, his scream fading in his ascension.

“No! Stop!” Shysha went to grapple Móni but was sent away with him.

“You better not,” Betts extended her arms and swung up the ladder.

Móni lifted the crates with the Force and dodged the streams of red shooting past her as she flew up after the others.

Betts had already reached the exit and was working on opening it while Qar-Tan and Shysha were huffing out their nerves—clinging to the railing for dear life.

“You guys alright?”

“No!” They glared at her.

“Hey, look at that. You two agree on something for once.”

Blaster bolts fired at them from below and Móni used the crates for cover with Qar-Tan and Shysha firing back at the bucket heads peeking in.

Sunlight shined on them when the shaft opened and were directly beside an Imperial shipyard.

“Oh no…,” Qar-Tan groaned. “It just keeps getting worse.”

Shysha scanned the area and pointed, “There’s the rooftop we need to get to.”

They analyzed the community spot with gardens, winding paths, and trees to provide shade, and was filled with patients.

Qar-Tan drummed his thick digits, “Those people may be a problem.”

“They won’t be for long,” Móni held the crates with the Force with one hand and her free one went to move a fuel canister to a droid refueling a TIE fighter. “Throw a detonator over there.”

“What?”

With an audible scoff, Shysha shoved Qar-Tan to make room for a perfect throw directly on the canister. The droid realized too late the blinking device and exploded in a cloud of black and red, alerting every Imperial in the vicinity.

“Get moving!” Móni flew out and passed off the crates to her companions when some stormtroopers caught them. “And don’t stop,” she sent them a firm stare at their hesitation.

She lifted the troopers and flung them to the side, then propelled a barrage of bolts back at another group. Descending at their pick-up location was Zione’s starship hovering above frantic patients who were making their way back inside the building. A TIE fighter lifted off the platform and angled its wings for an attack, but Móni held it with the Force.

Her free hand Force pushed an incoming group and she dug her feet into the ground, pivoting her body, and drove the TIE fighter on top of several stormtroopers.

“ **Móni, we’re in** ,” Shysha’s voice carried into her helmet’s comms.

After one final push to a group of Imperial pilots, Móni Force jumped on top of a docked TIE, then an edifice, and finally to the open ramp of the starship hovering past.

“I’m in. Let’s get out of here.”

They exited the atmosphere and safely escaped into hyperspace.

The lounge area was thick with unease—everyone’s attention on the locked quarters where Kyp, Shysha, and Granny Nyla were inside of. Móni’s knee bounced against her elbow while she mindlessly scrolled through the holo-net to keep herself occupied and Zione’s tail twitched every few seconds, playing a game of sabacc by himself.

“Can you sit down?” Móni stopped Qar-Tan. “The amount of times you’ve walked past here you could burn a hole through the ship.”

Qar-Tan chewed on a nail and sat beside Zione.

He stood back up, “I can’t sit still.”

“Your pacing is making me nervous.”

“You should have seen him, Móni,” he spoke softly so his voice won’t carry into the other room. “I’ve never seen him so sick before.”

“I know,” Móni motioned for Qar-Tan to come over and squeezed his hand. “This isn’t his first time. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. You know that.”

Her words weren’t enough to take away his worries, but the tension in his hand loosened along with the tight emotions that afflicted him. Móni finally turned to Zione who was riddled with remorse since the moment he contacted her about Kyp, but it expanded into her senses when Qar-Tan spoke.

“What?” the amani smacked a card on the table with extra force.

“You know it’s not your fault.”

Zione closed his fan of cards with a snap then rested them gently on the table, his spike of annoyance settled back into frustration.

“Should have known better than to have him step foot on planet with strange plants on his own, even after I told him several times--”

“But Kyp should have also known better than get too close to strange things,” Móni cut in with a counter and a growing smile. “As usual, he was being a rebellious little monkey-lizard.”

He eased into acceptance at her words, but his tail whipped to the side, “I wasn’t careful in keeping count on his medicine knowing how weak his immune system is. It’s been getting harder to obtain them with the Empire overseeing every major hospital in all the systems.”

“For next time so we can avoid Imperials, let me know when you’re running low so I can put in an order to send to M—”

Móni bit back from finishing the train of thought and the turbulence that came with it.

“You haven’t spoken to him _still_?” Qar-Tan easily absorbed her drama to deflect his worries. But he rolled his tongue against the roof of his mouth when he was stung by the intense brightness of her eyes.

Zione picked up his set and casually looked them over, “Can we know what happened between the two of you, yet?”

Móni banged a fist on the table, the mess of cards lifted several centimeters off the table, “No! Stop asking me.”

“So,” Qar-Tan rubbed his chin, forgetting the warning Móni gave him, “was it like a breakup?”

She lifted a determined finger to reject every connotation behind the statement, but Móni’s brain overloaded with images of that night and couldn’t send the right message to her mouth to formulate any words. Because it most certainly did feel like one.

Qar-Tan shared a quizzical glance with Zione then back at the woman who short-circuited from the simple question.

“Were you guys a thing?”

The glowpanels flickered under Móni’s deep inhale, but the males didn’t bat an eye from the small outburst; instead, they gaped with Qar-Tan being the first to react by bringing his hands flat together in prayer and pointed at her.

“I’m going to assume that’s a ‘no’ to preserve my peace of mind and believe you’re not _that_ crazy.”

Móni stood fast, “And explain to me how that would make me crazy?”

“I mean,” Qar-Tan stammered, perplexed by her defensiveness, “isn’t it obvious?”

“Explain.”

With arms crossed over her chest and a chin stuck up with defiance, Móni glowered at the younger being, refusing to acknowledge the truth but somehow needed to hear it—that she may have really gone mad. Even after all these months without seeing tattooed red skin or hearing the low rumble of his voice… her heart continued to tug for him across the star system.

The door to Kyp’s quarters opened and Qar-Tan, dropping the conversation so fast, vaulted past Shysha and Nyla.

“Don’t smother him. He ain’t dying,” Shysha called out, but gave up with a huff. “Ridiculous.”

“How’s he doing?” Móni asked but was given a pat of reassurance from the old theelin.

Shysha stretched with a satisfying groan and her antennapalps naturally reached for the ceiling as well, “He’s already recovering. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m tired from being chased by Imperials no thanks to your cross-wired brain.”

“I still got us out of there in one piece.”

“Whatever,” she waved and disappeared into her quarters.

From the lounge table, Zione and Nyla trapped Móni with their weariness like parents ready to scold.

She sighed with defeat, “Say it already.”

“This affixation with the thug…,” Zione spoke slowly and with warning. “If it came down between us and him who would you choose?”

Móni spun on her heel and held back everything she wanted to say about him—about the crime lord she knew and not who they saw. Someone who a wishful part of herself believed wouldn’t make her split allegiances between those she loved and her loyalty to him. By the stars she hoped.

“That’s not fair. You know better than anyone on this ship how much I care for that kid. I’d give my life for him.”

“Would _he_ let you, though?”

 _No_ , the answer came so easily it struck her with a painful realization she didn’t want to ever consider.

Maul would plow through anything he judged as insignificant to make way for her potential and his victory.

“Móni,” Qar-Tan broke the tension. “Kyp wants to talk to you.”

“Perfect timing,” she mumbled and ducked from Zione’s studious eyes that have learned to read her after several years of friendship.

Kyp’s quarters glowed with the soft lighting from the terrariums secured in sections along an entire wall’s face. Their colors illuminated the ship’s steel dullness and gave another sense of presence other than the sentients who occupied the area. They were calm and filled with life, expanding their leaves and petals in a comforting environment by someone who cared for them daily.

Their caretaker was on his back on a raised cot with arms crossed over his chest, blinking gently at the ceiling before catching Móni in the corner of his eye.

“You and Qar-Tan had an interesting conversation,” Kyp smiled.

“Heard all that?” she winced.

He chuckled, “He’s pretty loud.”

Móni sat on the floor and put a hand on his still ones, “Was the plant worth you getting this sick over?”

Kyp pointed with his eyes at a flower with purple and blue bioluminescence in its petals and the veins of its leaves.

“Yes!” he grinned with astounding accomplishment.

“You seem to have had adopted Nyla’s hobby into pure dedication,” she removed a strand of hair from his eye she saw was bothering him. “Do you know where she picked up how to do this sort of stuff?”

“Um,” Kyp pressed his lips together and blinked with a quick thought. “No. Never thought to ask.”

“Hasn’t she been your caretaker since the Clone Wars ended?”

“Yeah,” he said simply and without any intention to elaborate further.

Móni had never been particularly close with the old theelin, her inclusion in their small family meant to assist Kyp while she, Betts, and Zione worked at the diner on the Abolition. But Kyp was ecstatic when he encountered her, the specifics of their story hadn’t been made quite clear to her, but Móni shared his content to have befriended someone who wasn’t critically problematic like herself.

“Poor Zione keeps blaming himself for not keeping an eye on you,” she shifted, knowing the subtle signs of Kyp wanting a subject change. “But I know you’re more than capable to handle yourself, young man.”

“It was my fault for not taking the allergic reaction seriously. Got worse because I didn’t say anything,” he shrugged.

“Next time tell the guy everything,” a smirk stretched to the side. “He can’t catch all your not-so-subtle lies.”

“You’re right,” he laughed. “Spare myself everyone freaking out over a little cold.”

She rested her chin on the palm of her hand and relaxed into the conversation, "How are things with you? Besides the obvious."

"Picked up a new freelance gig," Kyp scrunched his nose in thought. "It's with Dryden Vos' sister, actually."

"Oh, yeah?" Móni's interest piqued with some concern. "Vos recommend you or something?"

"Don’t think so," he said with disinterest. "Pure coincidence, I guess. I'm just updating the estate's security for some event and keeping an eye on the guests. Easy money," he sighed.

 _Coincidence_ , Móni thought with bitterness, _or not_. It could have also been nothing and only her hatred of the Force clouding her judgment. 

Kyp deflated into a more somber emotion and searched Móni’s downcast eyes.

“What about you? How are things?”

“The same,” she picked on a loose strand on the hem of her pants. “Black Suns are easier to deal with. Gigorans are settling in better. Avin is a lot happier to be doing something other than killing people. And I’m just strolling on by with missions to expand the syndicate.”

“You’re gonna have to talk to him eventually.”

“I don’t see why I need to be the one to make the first move,” Móni ripped off the string and picked on another. “He was the one being an idiot.”

Kyp hummed his disapproval which incited Móni to slap both hands on his cot.

“Are you taking his side?” if she raised her voice any higher it would have sounded like a shriek. “You can’t be serious.”

“You told me yourself he’s unfamiliar with, you know, stuff like that. Probably didn’t know how to respond because… he really didn’t. And,” he side-eyed her with amusement, “you weren’t that nice to him either knowing this.”

“I was--!” Móni stopped to reflect on how she spoke with him, expecting him to understand how and why his words stung then punishing him for his lack of experience.

“He hurt you. I know,” Kyp bit the inside of his lip softly. “I won’t forgive him for that. But you’ve been different since this happened between the two of you. Not depressed or angry just… sad. So, do you want to mend things or not? If not, then it’s time to move past him.”

Móni couldn’t deny how much her body ached for his Force presence. The harsh heat of anger like the summer solstice gales trapping her air and carrying the unique scent of wet stone and a dark flower that bloomed without sunlight. She closed her eyes in pain at the memory of his quiet smiles and restrained laughter, then lowered her head inside the crook of her elbow.

“I want things to be how they used to, but I’m so scared I ruined everything.”

_If only I held back. If only I chose not to act on my feelings. If only I buried it and not let it invade my thoughts._

_If only…_

The crater the sugis ran to operate the beetle mines on Andelm IV sprouted clumps of green through dry cracks and housing developments were clean with sturdy foundations. What used to be a massive drill to dig into the hard soil was transformed into a platform augmented with directional particle beams to break new layers.

Working through the scaffoldings—in and out of the cliffside’s entrances—were some immigrated species who found their way from the Empire’s control and amongst them were the large gigorans wearing vocoders to communicate with their co-workers and organizing the forces to maintain the mine’s infostructure and operation.

Móni pushed the second crate they picked up in Purus Medical Center to a growing settlement on top of the cliff and nestled under a canopy of the planet’s massive trees that filtered the sun’s harsh rays from hitting the gigoran’s homes directly.

A group of children playing in the dirt and soiling their white fur jumped at the sight of the woman coming towards them shouting her name with glee. They jumped on the crate, the repulsorlift’s power fading under their weight, asking a million and one questions in their language.

“Yes, I know,” Móni picked up on their vocabulary. “It’s expensive medicine in case the heat gets to you.”

They ‘ooh’ at the same time and went to search for the console to open it.

Móni laughed at their struggle to raise the lid, not knowing she was using the Force to keep it in place. When they caught on, they started to shove her to release her hold which only made her laugh all the harder infuriating them with giggles.

“Hey, hey,” a deep male voice burst through the commotion.

Si’hen waved an oil-stained hand to shoo the critters away and stopped to give Móni a hard pat on the back.

“Cooling systems are acting up again?” Móni pushed the crate over to Si’hen to take.

“We’ve been pushing these machines past their limits since we have a pregnant female who needs to be kept cool. The heat could kill her.”

“I’ll ask Kyp and Avin what parts they need to make a new one for you guys. Ziton isn’t going to agree to spend another credit for another cooling system,” Móni curled her lip back at the Black Sun leader’s name.

“When will your warrior be returning?”

“Next rotation maybe? They’re on their way back from a mission already last I heard from him,” Si’hen nodded but the Force still stroked her with his unease. “What is it?”

He removed his vocoder and his coal eyes bore into hers, [There’s been some development on Gigor. A new faction has landed to help our people.]

“Can they be trusted?”

[I’m not sure, but they are fighting back against the Imperials and that is enough for me. And it gives us hope for our planet’s freedom.]

Móni rubbed her neck with doubt plaguing her thoughts at the rising factions popping out of the voids of space, but she had no means to dissuade Si’hen and his clan from negotiating with them; understanding she couldn’t relate with their grief of losing their planet in a single night. All she could do was give advice and have Kyp help in any way he could to connect with their families.

“Do they have a name?”

[The Partisans is what they call themselves.]

“Never heard of them. I can look into them for you if you’d like?” 

[I’d appreciate that.]

He returned the vocoder over his mouth and started to take the crate away, but Móni took hold of the soft fur on his arm and pulled him gently.

“I know you’re desperate, Si’hen, but don’t rely on others for your freedom. Take what little help these people will offer, and don’t trust them. Not until you know everything about them.”

“Are you telling me this from experience?”

Móni slid her hand off his arm, the strings of his long hair clinging gently between her fingers.

“I’ve joined a gang once, not knowing who the leader really was. Their lifestyle and my… crimes haunt me still.”

A thick and heavy palm covered her shoulder, “I will take your advice to heart, Boudika. Thank you for the medicine and everything you’re doing for us.”

“Still using that name after knowing my real one?”

“You are the last of your mother’s clan. I am simply keeping her tradition alive.”

 _You’re not letting me forget_ , she wanted to oppose. But Móni supposed it was meant to be this way—to remember what she had neglected for years. To carry on Momma’s memories.

There was no course for Móni to run through when she trained on her own, but she made do with what the planet’s natural terrain provided. Once her forms were completed, she would find a canyon with sharp rocks, deep fissures, steep slopes, and loose boulders; all the perilous obstacles Master would be proud of her to conquer. It was the meditation that left her more battered than the nicks and bruises on her skin.

Without him there to anchor her to reality, it had been more difficult to remove her consciousness from the Force’s tangled veil of the cosmic and the living. And the dreams have gotten worse.

Móni felt him. Through regions and systems and stars and beyond the cosmic Force, she felt that same presence who scratched and screamed for her attention. He was becoming desperate to the point of discomfort, but she had no way to control an entity who lived in a void like the wind—could not be contained or seen. There was also the sickly planet he continued to enlarge in her visions, demanding her to touch its life force and connect with it. The Rogue Jedi was becoming more of a nuisance, infiltrating her daily thoughts and moments of peace to prove a point with vague messages she refused to decipher.

 _Annoying vermin_.

Instead, her meditations focused on building impenetrable barriers around her mind, blocking the intrusion and shoving it back to whatever part of the Force it resided in. The daily practice had strengthened her resolve and confidence, but trepidation often pulsed fast in her veins of a future she was incapable of seeing, and one the Rogue Jedi seemed so sure of. All she could do was fight—exactly what she was trained to do.

_**Find him. Find the Heretic.** _

Their exploding voices tore her brain apart and Móni gasped out of her trance into a dark room she had called home since she landed on Andelm IV. Propped on a shelf and staring back at her through an empty visor was the Shadow Collective helmet Avin retrofitted for her use only and hadn’t been worn since Gigor. Its markings and horns stifled her with memories of a being she already had trouble forgetting in her daily activities. She pressed her fingertips to her lips, remembering the surprising softness of his skin and the bumps of his knuckles and twitch of his muscles.

Móni slapped a hand to her knee and stood, turning the helmet around and covering it with a simple black one she had been wearing—forged by Avin out of stormtrooper and Imperial pilot armor.

Littered around the area were traces of her Mandalorian friend: tools, equipment parts, and armor buffing gels. Items he brought when they discussed the mines, gigorans, Black Suns, and non-crime syndicate topics.

“How is he?” she had asked him one time while he was situated on the floor’s center, upgrading the specs of his helmet’s HUD.

“How’s who?”

Móni zoomed into the holomap display of the galaxy and into the Unknown Regions where Csilla was located, “Do I need to spell it out for you?”

“Always so touchy whenever he’s involved. And I didn’t bring it up this time.”

“If I don’t ask, I may implode from curiosity.”

Avin set down his work momentarily to regard her fully, “Why don’t you ask him yourself, then?”

“I wish it were that easy. You forget he’s not a casual conversationalist. And I seriously believe he doesn’t want to talk to me.”

He swallowed a sigh and returned to syncing his vambrace’s panel to the HUD, “And why do you think that?”

“Because he’s been sending me missions through Rook. Never have they come directly from him.”

“He’s probably too busy to deal with your drama.”

“Too bad he’s part of it.”

“Yes,” he hid his face in his work and the smile he held back. “Feel bad for him, actually.”

A pillow smacked his head and sent him into a fit of laughter.

“Shut your pretty face up.”

Avin’s laughter died when he seriously considered his brooding lord and how the lines of fury deepened in his marked features—casting shadows of guilt and turmoil.

“He’s the same since I’ve seen him,” he danced around the truth. “Not much to say.”

Móni stopped to consider the man who kept his head bowed away from her stare, knowing he had been caught in a small lie that shuttered around him. But she let it go, probably finding it best not to know in detail the traces of Maul's feelings since that night.

“Is he eating at least?”

“Ration bars and tea.”

She shook her head and exhaled loudly through her nose, “Typical.”

Unfocused on his task, Avin set aside the helmet and tools to place a heavy matter on his dearest friend’s shoulders when there was so much there already.

“Móni, you know who he is and his linear obsession with revenge. Don’t expect so much of him.”

The holomap of stars and systems hovered in a slow rotation above her—the galaxy Maul wished to conquer to usurp his master and rise above his failures. Móni selected a planet labeled Dathomir and watched the red ball turn. In the deepest part of the Force surrounding her, voices whispered to her from beyond. In her self-made sessions to combat the Rogue Jedi, she had developed a sensitivity to select what she heard and found the ones who spoke when she built her lightsaber: two males who called for their brother. It could have been any random set of dead beings from eons ago to the present, but they spoke with familiarity. And to her, specifically.

Savage expected trust, apprenticeship, and brotherhood with his brother. And he was given it.

Móni didn’t think there was ever a time Maul abandoned or betrayed his brother for his goals. In fact, he may have adapted to their bonds and embraced it.

She shut off the holoprojector and answered from the corner of the room.

“I don’t have any expectations, Avin. I just want,” _to be by his side_ , “to not be a burden to him.”

And she feared she may have become one to him.

The chronometer read well past midnight and Móni groaned into her pillow. She never quite adjusted to the strange hours of the night she remained awake to cook and talk with Maul. Bored of engineering holo-vids and tired of looking at her own research across the mysterious cosmos, she swung her feet over the cot, called her lightsaber, and made her way to the crisp, night air.

Andelm IV did not have the heavy humidity or luscious trees that D’Qar’s jungle ecosystem had. The weather was often refreshing and the heat not as scorching. It was a pleasant change in atmosphere and Móni did not miss the opportunity to explore its terrain.

She flew out of the mine’s crater and landed just on the outskirts of a forest with trees blushing bright from bioluminescent leaves and shining through the crevices of their trunks. Under her bare feet, the earth pulsed with their roots and the beetle’s larvae they were mining for. Insects crawled through the dirt and hummed their songs, and the winds carried the scents of native flora across her skin.

Perched on the crook of the tallest oak, Móni weaved together crowns made from blades of plants and flowers, humming softly to herself; forgetting the zabrak who tormented her thoughts and consumed by her work she thought had been forgotten since leaving Devaron.

Struck with inspiration from experiencing a rare time alone, Móni held up a blooming white, baby gypsos and a wilting one by their stems. She concentrated on their life force beating through her fingertips and up her arms, then dipped into her own—raging and full of life. In small doses, she extracted parts of herself into the wilting bud and could feel sparks of revival healing its damaged cells. Then her senses expanded, touching every life form including the small, healthy bloom in her other hand—whispering softly and filling the Force with bountiful energy ready to be let go.

Its loud voice dimmed and was replaced with a new one that had Móni awaken with a startling realization. In her hands was one shriveled flower and the other was transformed into a floral with a thicker stem, larger petals, and a new tint of a yellow hue.

She wasn’t sure if the Force healing was a success or fail by creating a new species. She imagined the gigoran Elder would have seen the trial as a total error, but through Maul’s mentorship, he would have definitely seen the turnout as a success.

Móni hummed her concerns. Just once, she would like to do it correctly and see what it meant to sacrifice oneself for another.

After some endless minutes, she was lost in her activity, but the peace ended with a flash on her holodevice. Without giving it a second thought, under the assumption of it being Avin or Kyp, she accepted it with her eyes still on her weaving.

“And to who do I owe this late night pleasure? Good thing you caught me awake or I would have definitely ignored the transmission.”

There was a beat of silence that made her brows furrow and she ceased twisting the stem of a bright blue floral into the crown.

“ **Apprentice.** ”

Móni jerked her head up and a flood of emotions crashed into her lungs and buried her insides. The only thing left in her body was her heart beating fast against her chest and drumming in her ears.

She caught his gold eyes and did not release their hold—seizing onto what she missed dearly and reacquainting herself with the designs on his face, the quirk in his mouth, and twitch in his jaw.

_How long have I been staring?_

It didn’t matter. She didn’t care. There he was. Before her. And she was compelled to leap up and embrace the hologram of his full form, but the mixture of numbness in her legs and her mind exorcising restraint, Móni remained where she was.

Maul’s shoulders shifted uncomfortably, and she realized he wasn’t holding his usual dignified posture of status and control. They were worn down with vulnerability and his gloveless hands were balled into fists. He blinked back at her with a level of stress she had never seen before, but they searched—his gaze ran deep into her with a need she had only felt back on Gigor; when she vaulted him away before the avalanche took them and when she explained the vision of a life without him.

He pressed his lips together and was the first to break away, shattering their spell. But Móni reeled him back to her.

“How are you?”

Simple. Harmless. Silly maybe, but it plagued her every minute of the day. His wellbeing. Even knowing from Avin what his status was, he could only report what he saw on the surface—what everyone else saw of Maul and not what truly existed underneath the scowls and growls and fury.

The question had him flickering between Móni and his steel feet, a shadow cast over his eyes from the deep furrow of his brow ridge. He did not look her way when he nodded, then struggled with the next set of words. His line of sight flashed bright and directly her way, but something crumbled his resolve and placed his hands behind his back—shoulders squared and back straight.

 _To business, then_ , Móni did not miss the massive ball of distress chained to him and a certain part of her felt he was forced to make contact out of necessity. And it caused her throat to clench tight from the assumption she was beginning to believe.

 _I caused this_. The awkwardness. The inability to express himself clearly just when she began establishing a foundation of trust with him before she allowed her emotions to run free. She was close to finding that person with amber eyes who had been waiting to be released. To be known and discovered.

And she blew it all away.

“ **The upcoming task will be the final effort into the Crimson Veil’s expansion. Afterward, we will combine our resources of the Empire’s network of affluent beings and make our move. And you are needed with me for this.** ”

Móni swallowed her feelings and stood before him as his apprentice, the unfinished crown of flowers held tight in her grasp.

“Is this an all hands on deck thing like on Gigor?”

“ **No.** ”

There wouldn’t have been a problem with the sudden response if there wasn’t a loud vex in his disposition which unsettled Móni in a way she couldn’t quite understand.

“Where is it at?”

“ **Vos’ estate.** ”

Móni tilted her head to one side. Then the other.

"This wouldn't happen to be the event his sister is holding is it?"

" **You know of it?** " Maul matched her confusion.

"Kyp was hired temporarily for it," she explained, swallowing the flux of apprehension at the occurrences sliding into place and doing her best to ignore the Force having some control in any of it.

 _And if it was_? There was nothing she could do.

She returned to Maul, forcing out a facade to hide the unease.

“So,” she began. Slow. Taking her time to watch his nostril and upper lip twitch with irritation under her acute stare and smirk. “A gala then? And I’m going as your—”

“ **Apprentice.** ”

It took a moment to process the firm tone wasn’t a call but a statement of her role.

“I assume we’re not going as a Sith duo.”

“ **The specifics will be explained when you return to base.** ” 

The order came across more as a question. Maul shifted his feet and looked anywhere but her face until he settled on the crown she was making.

He was fighting a part of himself that granted her the power of choice to return or not, which made her wonder how he felt from the time spent away from the other—if it mattered to him at all. His internal struggle shed a glimmer of optimism, hinting at the possibility her harsh words and brief separation rattled something in his fiery pit of fury.

_Maybe I hit some sense into him._

Móni placed the half-done crown on her head, “I’m making some for the kids. The sun on this planet can be murder on their furred bodies, but they do love the fauna here.”

Maul’s uptight form eased but the slight shake in his arms gave away the rigid grip on his hands behind his back. And when he swept across her face and head, the air left her body at the flicker of softness caressing her emotions.

It faded as soon as it came, like an apparition that forms in shadows and corners, and no proof of its existence.

She tiptoed across the thick bough to close their distance. Móni didn’t have to give her answer by the way he unclasped his hands and released the deep tension in his face; leaving only subtle lines on his forehead and mouth.

But she knew he needed to hear it and he waited ever so patiently.

“I’ll head back home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... It's going to be a gradual start. Next chapter is a full Maul one, then the third one we kinda hit the ground running.
> 
> I'm going to _try_ to do my weekly updates. Lost a bit of my groove and I intend to build it back again as I get these chapters going. But I will keep you guys updated on me [blog](chaoticookie-autonomous.tumblr.com)
> 
> See you next chapter!


	2. Maul

**A Crown of Horns**

D’Qar’s nature moved with the winds and animals, past the foliage and across the landscape. If one focused hard enough, maybe the soft trickles of a river could be heard and where the crop’s filtration system was fed from. The agriculture droids silently pulled at fragrant and plump vegetation, and roots buried in rows before being thrown in containers to be washed later.

The scene was serene and empty of anything associated with a crime organization based underground, but her energy lingered still on every leaf she touched and path she stepped on; creating a disruption in the quiet he did not relish in.

From the spare time he was not accustomed to having since her absence—time made for her training—Maul took a detour when he had subconsciously followed the imprints of her presence trekking the land to the pocket of her creation. And he allowed himself to marvel at the elbow deep work the woman had toiled over for the sake of exploiting her obsession to the fullest.

He crouched to run a finger along the soft grooves of an unknown herb, discreetly wondering to himself what manner of dish could be made with a single strand. But his wandering thoughts halted after reflecting on what he was doing and how long he had been standing alone in a field satiated with her stench when he had explicitly rewired his mind to banish any distracting thoughts concerning her.

A sneer reached a nostril and his fingers flexed for destruction to level the area flat and perish another reminder of where she was. But his anger sizzled under his skin and held in the palm of his hands, restrained from being used and not risk another reason to put a strain on their fractured ties.

_It’s too quiet._

The planet was too quiet without her.

Saxon led his unit of four down a corridor, chasing after a group of bounty hunters who were returning fire while backing themselves into a lift. One of them tossed a smoke grenade to mask their escape but Maul emerged from behind the Mandalorians with a hand raised to pull an unfortunate being into his grasp before they were completely concealed.

The masked being writhed under the invisible pressure, unable to aim their blaster or pull on the trigger.

“Where is your employer hiding?” Maul squeezed the Force around them, expecting a fast answer from a paid criminal.

They choked from the strain but the fear for their life carried through, “He’s on the top floor in some hidden room located in his office.”

Baelis went straight to work on a console nearby and confirmed the bounty hunter’s information.

“There is no plan in the station’s schematic of an extra room in the office, but I have gathered a surplus amount of power being stored in an unknown space in the area.”

Maul released the hunter and illuminated his lightsaber.

“No! Wait!”

He sliced through their pleas and ceased its life forever.

“Find another way up,” Maul commanded but did not regard Baelis with a glance. “They are expecting us to follow their route.”

In a lift further from their target’s location it made an abrupt stop halfway to their destination, but Saxon quickly assessed the situation as sabotage. He removed the panel above them and stepped back for Maul to leap out first. While the party was hoisting themselves to the top, screeching metal and wind picked up in the shaft from above them.

Through his visor’s HUD, Saxon saw through the darkness and a lift coming down on them fast.

“We better get back inside, Sir,” he was ready to return to the dead lift but his Lord’s gold eyes gleamed with rage, and his lips curled with annoyance.

Maul stopped it with the Force, mere feet away from crushing them all. His arms shook from the pressure pushing against him and Saxon slid before him with head bowed to fire a launcher from the tip of his jetpack at the lift’s base.

It was then released, the newly made hole swallowing them into a new lift but pushed down against the one they were on. Maul Force pushed the panel above and leaped out while the warriors jetpacked out and up the shaft. With assistance from the Force, he followed with wall jumps and landed on the final floor which the warriors had readily forced open for him.

The ghost of a hand slid up his arm and touched his own where he held her power for the first time. Maul felt it in her gaze and in his fingertips, what had transpired between them—a bond was made the moment their foreheads touched, and when she exposed her past to him.

Maul sucked in a breath and cleared away the abrupt memory that included a bold smile and a soft voice.

 _Forget her,_ and the sunset vanished.

Blasters or wrists at the ready, the Mandalorians checked around corners and rooms for any signs of the bounty hunters, but the hired beings were poorly managed as some were huddled before the entrance of their objective and Maul assumed more waiting inside—their employer using them as shields.

Their resistance was futile when Saxon ordered one of his men to use a wrist rocket and in the explosion the rest were fired down. Once Baelis sliced through the door’s control panel they were immediately met with blinking detonators at the threshold. Most of the warriors were blown back from the explosion, but Saxon and Baelis sprung into action and open fired at the bounty hunters waiting inside.

Maul pressed forward, unthreatened by the lesser beings who were ill-equipped against someone with a lightsaber or a trained Force user. In the vast space with an entire wall made transparent to overlook the sun and planet the station orbited, he sent the three that were left flying across the room; making sure they struck headfirst so their skulls cracked along with the transparisteel.

Baelis was quick to operate a control panel he found behind a red banner displaying the Empire’s mark and a part of the wall opened to the exact area he had confirmed the existence of. The place was empty of life but filled with exaggerated décor that boasted of the owner’s wealth and status.

“I’m not picking up anything in here,” Saxon read his vambrace’s panel.

However, his statement was ignored. Maul stepped forward and scanned every crevice, shadow, and object—extending his Force presence into the surrounding area to feel for another life. His hand shot out toward the bed and flung it aside to reveal a cowering gossam.

He shot up in a whimper and ran across the room but was lifted in the air and brought to his worst nightmare. His nerves were so utterly shot with fear he couldn’t pronounce the words bumbling off his tongue and dropped nonsense instead.

“Executive Owin Surk,” Maul clenched his fingers a smidge tighter to release another whimper. “Your hired bodyguards are gone, my men and I severed any outgoing or incoming transmission to your base, and you will now have to face your final decision. Serve me or you will learn of a force meant to be truly feared across the galaxy.”

The thin and shriveled creature rolled his sickly yellow eyes back, not of suffocation but from a response he knew would cost him his life.

“I can’t,” Surk whispered. “Please. I can’t.”

“You have two options, Executive. Live or die. There is no mercy.”

Prepared for the inevitable and yet, holding on to one final chance, Surk dropped a hand from his neck and delicately dipped into the fine fabric of his robes to press his salvation. A ray-shield extended fast across the room to create a barrier between himself and his captors. He shook with relief from the release and on the side of safety he spilled his torment so he could be heard.

“Please, I beg you,” he sunk to his knees and held tightly to his clothing. “They have my family tracked and I can’t risk their lives to side with you. I know others who can help. Who would be more than happy to turn their backs on the Empire.”

But Maul didn’t hear him. Could not. He reacted fast enough to retreat his arm, but the shock of nearly losing a limb and the red ray-shield flashing in his mind’s eye with two Jedi lying in wait behind them, he linked it all to the moment he lost everything. Ire ran quick in his blood and burned his eyes, and terror seized him—fueling his power so the Force quaked under his will. He lifted the tiny, pathetic being; squeezing, suffocating, draining its life. He could not hear the cries behind the adrenaline pumping in his ears or find clarity in the fog of fury.

Maul opened to the Dark Side, allowed it to take control until there wasn’t a life left to take anymore.

The corpse dropped to the ground. The safety Surk thought he had with the ray-shield remained standing and Maul turned on his heel and tore straight past the warriors without a word.

“ **He’s… dead** ,” Vos held his self-control at the back of his throat.

His full-body holoprojection illuminated the small quarters of a ship with full attention on his lord who was situated in a dark corner with an arm propped casually on a raised knee and gold eyes glowing within the shroud. They blinked with a weight behind them Vos couldn’t discern nor was he sure he rightly wanted to. Especially when there was something more pressing that demanded his attention.

“The gossam spoke of others who could be adequate replacements,” Maul growled at the near-human whom he felt rising, threatening, tension from.

Vos lightly bit his tongue from saying anything out of turn then counted the seconds to calm his running thoughts.

“ **Yes** ,” he took his time. Taking great care with every word that came out, “ **however, Surk was irrelevant to the Empire’s eyes but important within the Commerce Guild because of his extensive connections with all the members, including the ones he may have been referring to.** ”

Maul made gradual steps across the room and showed Vos every line on his fury ridden features. He unclasped a single hand behind his back and flexed his fingers. The action alone was enough to tame Vos into subjugation. 

“Then pick another one,” with the hand he threatened with, he waved with indifference which made Vos itch at his high collar. “They are all the same to me. Their duties fulfilling their purpose in the end.”

“ **I understand, my Lord** ,” Vos dipped his head slightly.

However, Maul heard a ‘but’ at the end and he was prepared to do what was necessary depending on Vos’ next words.

There was a long silence filled with deliberation, and the near-human’s blue eyes darted fast with racing thoughts until he finally settled on something he deemed adequate to share and wouldn’t cost him his life.

“ **There is an old count I know who has connections within the Imperial Ruling Council. He’s a hermit: hard to contact and track, makes rare public appearances, until recently thanks to my sister** ,” he said with a tight jaw. “ **She’s holding a private event he’s invited to and we should pin him then before he recedes to whatever region of space he secludes himself in**.”

“We?” Maul was growing impatient with the point Vos was carefully getting across.

“ **You see…** ,” Vos licked his lips. “ **We are at odds with one another. A failed business venture he blames me for, but if someone could go and speak with him in my stead, I can sneak them into the gala.** **This may be our last chance to find someone who has deep connections within the Empire.** ”

 _A **social** gathering_. As much he would rather dismiss the suggestion altogether, Maul was not ignorant to the culture of the galaxy’s most affluent, and these assemblies were where most negotiations took place. Sending someone in his stead would be out of the question if the situation was truly desperate, no thanks to the impudent man before him.

“I will _sway_ the count,” Maul barely mustered, sucking in his detestation. “There will be no doubt about that.”

The agreement should have settled Vos’ nerves, but he tapped a finger against his chin in agitation, another ploy formulating fast in his mind.

“ **It will take place in two standard months.** ”

Ready to be done with the conversation, Maul simply nodded and returned to where he was sitting earlier.

“ **My Lord** ,” he stumbled ever so slightly but did not go unnoticed, which meant Maul was not going to enjoy what he was about to hear. “ **For appearance's sake, you should consider bringing someone with you. It doesn’t bode well to attend these things on your own—** ”

With a wave of his hand, Maul severed the transmission without gleaning Vos a response.

He tapped a finger on his steel knee, running through possible candidates and ignoring the obvious.

_No._

She was the most logical choice.

_Absolutely not._

Often as he could, Maul traveled across systems, overworking himself with every possible task he could find and avoid returning to D’Qar; which had nothing for him there other than a bed and security. Mainly, the planet never failed to remind him of a certain woman who had left her mark in every crevice of the place while her name continued to carry on in whispers down the halls from warriors who noticed the obvious void from her absence. Most notably when he passed the mess hall where her droid continued to carry on her duties.

There were times he was forced to return to the base because of low fuel levels or maintenance, and Maul had no choice but to be overwhelmed by her lack of presence; making him return to the night everything went wrong along with countless questions and denials boiling over all sense of decorum. The Mandalorians felt the steam off his skin and saw the tightness around his eyes when he stepped off his starship. They were accustomed to their Lord’s character, specifically the Sith aspect of it, but even they were capable to discern the slight difference in his twitches and sneers.

“My Lord,” Kast called Maul after their briefing on Vos’ current scheme.

She put a datapad in his hand. “Móni’s updated list of completed and ongoing objectives.”

He glanced over the details made by the Pyke Syndicate leader, Marg Krim; favorable comments, as usual. But when he read Ziton Moj’s, it turned into scribbles of juvenile scorn over the woman who was in a constant battle with the Black Sun’s leader but whom she won favor with each time despite the complaints.

‘ _Not only does she disrespect my authority over the gigorans, but she had taken it upon herself that they oversee the construction of the mines—granting them full authorization of the mechanism’s construction, and excavation, production, and distribution of the larvae. Furthermore--_ ’

Maul lowered the device, unabashed by another one of Ziton’s usual grievances.

“And Jor’s report,” he returned to Kast.

“Avin says production couldn’t be smoother since he relayed your command about replacing the drill with a platform. And Móni continues to communicate the gigoran’s requests on their behalf.”

He returned the datapad, uninterested in reading any more about her.

“Will that be all?”

Kast searched her lord and found something rather unnerving in his demeanor. Besides the coil of anger, there was a touch of melancholy when he dipped his head and turned away from her, already prepared to isolate himself.

She swallowed her opinions and nodded, “Yes.”

Long out of their range, Saxon pulled up beside Kast, wariness pulling down on the lines of age of his features.

“Noticed it too?”

“Wish I hadn’t.”

“Not much different on the field, though,” Saxon scratched at his stubbled chin. “Maybe more ruthless if that’s possible.”

“And I thought it was a blessing he sent her away and not having to see her face around here anymore.”

“She is his apprentice. You remember how attached he was with his brother.”

Kast may have been raised as a warrior and within a clan of females with Bo-Katan’s Nite Owls, but she was not inexperienced with blatant signs of customary emotions between two beings. What exactly they were she chose to turn a blind eye at and denied all possibilities of her lord being capable of harboring anything for someone else.

“Right.”

 _But she’s not a long, lost sibling_. It was someone who affected his moods and decisions—who he regarded highly and trusted. Móni was not just an apprentice.

She was everything.

Maul stared into the black liquid in his cup, watching the steam rise from the small ripples, and forgetting the datapad with upcoming shipments he should be looking over. No matter how long he kept away from the planet, in every return he gravitated to their small place of refuge at the usual hour. And each time there was a drop of disappointment in his stomach when he wasn’t met with the allure of food, clanking of dishes, or her head of curls popping out from over the counter with that stupid smile plastered over her face. He didn’t know why he kept coming back. It was the only instance he recounted the events of that night and the months passed between them.

He pushed the cup aside, the flavor sour in his mouth when he had a taste of tea that surpassed what he could ever make.

It was a sort of self-punishment. Maul settled with the reason when flashes of gleaming, orange eyes watered with pain and fury crossed his vision, and the fist brought down at his feet to mark their separation.

_What was it she said? ‘I would have preferred a proper rejection than being told what I feel isn’t real you sarlaak.’_

When he looked past the cheeky attitude and broke down what she wanted from him…

Maul pressed his fingers against his forehead, hoping an answer would present itself—that it had to have been so obvious he simply wasn’t seeing it.

He dragged a finger across the scar on his palm and felt the cold balm the apprentice pressed against it. The sensation would never leave his memories, as much he wished to have it purged. Nor the sheen from the sun’s rays off her hair and skin.

 _I can’t._ And why can’t he?

_A distraction. Weakness._

Then a small voice whispered a desire he had been shoving into the depths of his mind for these short years—what the woman meant and became to him. But he couldn’t face it.

He gripped his wrists with shaking hands. Maul had experience with fear, but this wasn’t the type for his life or losing something that rightfully belonged to him—it was a fear of the unknown and he didn’t know how to conquer it.

There was also the issue with Vos’ little gathering. Maul ran a hand over his face and played through the few people who could accompany him:

Saxon was social and agreeable to his clan members, but he was rather opinionated against political figures if his hate for the late Duchess of Mandalore said anything. His personal grievances would get the best of him and would more than likely create a rival than a partnership.

Kast was a viable option, but she was quick to regard any individual a threat and her loyalty to him could be misplaced as a flaw when what he needed was someone who could play through deceits.

Then the apprentice. The obvious and best choice. Social. Resourceful. Always performs her duties with his interests at heart. And she was no stranger to these sorts of events if he understood her social status on Coruscant as a cook who served those types of people.

He would have to contact her. End their silent feud.

The corner of his mouth twitched with unrefined anger at himself for hesitating, their worthless battle that continued to wage across star systems, and the apprentice for making him be the one to bend to her will. However, he would be contacting as her master and Maul would not be asking for her cooperation. This time, he would be making the demands. Not her.

Maul stiffened at a presence coming near the mess hall’s entrance and it slid open to Avin Jor with full armor and a helmet tucked under his arm. When he noticed who was at the counter he stopped fast and immediately avoided eye contact before bowing his head.

“My Lord.”

He made no indication of movement until Maul turned away and put his attention on a datapad.

Avin took one step. Then another. When he deemed it safe to cross the mess hall, he kept a large distance between himself and Maul as he made his way into the kitchens to quickly grab a handful of ration bars. Relieved he made it to his objective without a hassle, he froze at his leader’s penetrating voice.

“Are you returning to Andelm IV?”

“Um.”

Avin locked on Maul who stared back with glaring eyes that did not hide his intent. The question wasn’t conversational. Anyone who knew the crime leader understood there was always a method to every action, as chaotic some were. It was also an important fact to never keep him waiting.

“Yes. I’m heading back right now.”

Maul rubbed a finger along the datapad’s edge and looked on at the one being, under his charge, who had been by his apprentice’s side since her initiation into the Crimson Veil. Including now, the man was freely flying back to her, and it infuriated him.

“The apprentice is creating discord with Ziton.”

The young warrior raised his brows in a humorous gesture at a recollection, “When is she not causing discord?”

The statement couldn’t be any truer, and—in the span of time it took to breathe in and out—there was a mutual understanding for the woman; who she was and how difficult it was to control her. Though, Avin did not linger on the moment, feeling a heated intensity to answer the question fully.

“The gigorans aren’t meant to live in warm climates like on Andelm, so Móni has been doing her best to make their new lives as comfortable she can make it which tends to be a little costly. Not to mention, despite the wages, Ziton still views them as slaves and is worried the amount of freedom they have would be used against him.”

“How is she persuading him?”

“Well,” Avin scratched his blonde head, “she does odd jobs for him and has Kyp investigate his datafiles for any leverage she could use. Mainly things he’s kept hidden from the Pykes and Hutts.”

 _Cunning as always._ Despite all her faults and torments she was putting him through, Maul was pleased with the apprentice’s work. She had the falleen’s neck in her hands and squeezed whenever he got out of line.

Then he wondered what she did when she wasn’t traversing the galaxy on errands sent by him or making deals with the Black Suns. The hours not spent training, Maul knew her schedule which was told to him one unfortunate conversation ago by the woman herself. Now, he hadn’t a clue or if she was training on her own at all.

_Did she prefer it there?_

He flared at the pathetic thought and nearly smacked his hands down on the table, but remembered he had company.

Little did he know Avin had kept a watchful eye on him and chose to be bold with his lord; sacrificing his life to satisfy his curiosity and understand, in part, what had truly transpired between the Sith and his dearest friend.

“Have you two really not spoken to each other this entire time?”

And he felt it. In no way was Avin a Force user, but then he figured the room shaking was not his imagination but Maul unleashing his anger and slowly sucking the air out of him. Rather than back down and plead for mercy, he continued:

“She hasn’t been the same since she left. Even with things going so well with the gigorans.”

The air stilled and for the first time in Avin’s career as a member of the Shadow Collective and Crimson Veil, he looked at someone he did not recognize and possibly caught a glimpse at the being Móni saw. It was unsettling. Strange. But Avin recognized the concern that draped over his lord and everything he had assumed was confirmed.

Maul opened his mouth and on the tip of his tongue was a question he burned to ask but instead, he pressed his lips in a firm line and returned to the datapad.

“Leave.”

After a half-placed bow, Avin left the room and did not regret his prying for a moment.

_Should have killed him._

The temptation was there, considering Jor was the one who presented the option for the apprentice to leave D’Qar in the first place. It would cause yet another dispute and Maul didn’t think he could feel her hatred against him again. It didn’t leave him with the satisfaction he thought he would have for her, it only left him with an emptiness he didn’t know how to fill.

 _I need to contact her_. He had never dreaded anything so much in his life. If what Jor said was true—if she had changed—it must have meant the apprentice had embraced her hatred for him and turned into a fearsome Sith apprentice.

Maul pushed off the stool and made quick strides to his quarters. Whoever the person projected to him would be, he was their master and she would obey him as such.

_How long has it been?_ Since he had been staring at the selection to make the transmission on the holoprojector.

Aggravated at his own feeble conduct, his muscles tensed his hands into fists, and he pressed aggressively against the screen with a knuckle.

The seconds that passed were the longest Maul had ever experienced and when the console blinked with a connection, he held his breath until the woman projected before him.

Immediately he was gravitated to the wild curls hanging free over her shoulders then to the light attire that left her legs and arms bare. Before he could even consider what she was doing with a weave of plants in her hands, he was distracted by her voice whose sound filled him with a comfort he had forgotten.

“ **And to who do I this late-night pleasure? Good thing you caught me awake or I would have definitely ignored the transmission**.”

The blatant sarcasm in her tone sounded just the way it always did, and Maul had yet to find what about her wasn’t the same.

_I need to see…_

Her focus on the little project kept her away from him and so he called out to her and she seized him—body and mind—with those sunset hues that shined through the projection’s blue, holographic noise. In them he found not a drop of contempt or loathing or detestation toward him. And he wished he had for what she gave him was not anything he knew how to respond to.

Maul was gifted all her care and fondness and joy the moment she recognized him. It was new. Exhilarating. And his emotions battled between a desire he dared not feed and the fear of what would happen if he did. When it became too much for him to contain, the blood in his veins nearly bursting from their pulse, he shut down the connection and found his breath again.

“ **How are you?** ”

Never been asked. Never been sought after. Never been cared for. Maul nearly spilled everything to her; his insecurities, confusion, and ignorance. To find some sort relief in this torment that clenched his lungs and sent his stomach spiraling. She had been the only person he shared pieces of himself with, including fragments of his childhood even he had little recollection of. The woman knew too much, understood too much, and he was shaken at how he _wanted_ to share more of his burdens as he had carried hers.

He jerked his head for a response. All he could do from the panic settling under his skin.

_And you? What have you been doing? How have you trained? Do you prefer to be away than be with--_

The words clung to his throat at a conversation that would lead them in a direction he wasn’t prepared for. Rather than succumb to the fervor he singled out the anger that mixed with the chaos.

_Not now._

There were bigger concerns at hand and she too understood, as his apprentice, what they entailed. However, the luster in her aura faded into skepticism brimmed with a wicked quirk that tugged at the corner of her lips when he continued to explain their new objective. And Maul openly expressed his outrage, but underneath the taught muscles was a warmth from seeing those familiar instances of her mirth.

Then came the question. No. _Command._ For her return.

To her apprenticeship. _To me_.

He filled his chest, ready to take nothing but obedience from her, but when they passed his lips the uncertainty mingled in the air. Maul swallowed hard at his loss of control and the choice he had not meant to give her. And he was… anxious.

 _If she said no?_ Would it matter to him if she did? He should press her to bend to his will regardless of what she wanted. But, as usual, when it came to the woman, he was at a complete loss of what to do if it ever came to that; his confidence shattered for he had utterly surrendered to her volition.

Unable to settle the trembles in his hands, he searched within himself for the hatred he needed to feel or the anger to fuel him, but they were lost somewhere in the swirl of emotion and could not be recovered until he meditated. In his hunt to find some way to be pulled out of the frenzy, he landed on the wreath of twisted plants in her hand and reminisced of how flowers adorned her twisted locks.

The picture of serenity in an open field with silent winds eased the disturbance riled within him and felt he could breathe again.

The apprentice placed, not the wreath, but crown on her bush of hair, “ **I’m making some for the kids. The sun on this planet can be murder on their furred bodies, but they do love the fauna here.** ”

Her smile, untainted with humor but overflowing with a gentleness that softened her eyes and made her face glow with everything he was absolutely enthralled by, squeezed his hearts. And he did not stop there. Maul took in all of her; the loose clothing that bore her naked limbs, her bare feet caked in mud, and he imagined the small details he couldn’t see because of the holoprojection’s quality such as the dirt under her fingernails or beauty marks on her skin.

As much he nestled the emotions out of sight, he did not break eye contact when she came forward with a decision pressed against him without a word passing between them.

“ **I’ll head back home**.”

He didn’t know such a feeling existed; the satisfaction of a decision made on her own without him executing a show of force. That maybe… he had done something right.

Alleviation dropped from his crown of horns to the cybernetics that met his organic half, and he could have sworn there was a phantom sensation of it continuing down the base of his steel soles.

Hesitation flickered behind her eyes and the woman did not hold back, “ **There are a few things I need to wrap up here before I go. Make sure Avin doesn’t get pushed over by Ziton and his goons**.”

Rage sparked in his throat but this time he did nothing to quiet what he was so familiar with and allowed it to spread throughout his body.

“Is the passive Mandalorian incapable of settling disputes on his own?”

The apprentice blinked slowly; a delicate brow arched with amusement, “ **Avin is not as passive you think he is. This new status _you_ gave him brought out his true warrior instincts, I think. You may see the best Mandalorian in the Shadow Collective soon enough**. **But we’ve been partners here and I can’t leave him with half-done agreements between Ziton and us. When is the gala?** ”

Maul returned his hands behind his back, squeezing his wrist at the apprentice fulfilling her duties, and rightfully so, but at the behest of an underling— _his_ underling. One whom she had gained an attachment with like the theelin child. He was beginning to understand the change within her; the woman had learned to become more responsible by taking her status seriously. What he had been struggling so long with her.

“In one standard month,” the truth clung to his tongue even after he spoke when a lie would have returned her sooner.

“ **I’ll be back before then** ,” she promised. “ **If that’s alright?** ”

_No._

“Yes,” he said tightly.

No one spoke when they realized there was nothing more to add to the conversation and he was usually the one to end things abruptly to spare himself wasted time. But Maul held on to those seconds before he released her again.

“ **Was there…** ,” she started, a low quiver in her tone but was soothed after she swallowed, “ **anything else?** ”

Maul was not completely out of his element to not know what _anything else_ meant, and his cybernetics—their attachment to his body usually forgotten—were creating such discomfort on his midsection he gripped his hands tighter to keep from alleviating the itch. After all this time avoiding the topic in his mind and returning to it with more questions, he couldn’t figure out what to say or how to say it. What was right and what was wrong. What she wanted to hear or not to hear.

To not push her further away.

“No,” he searched everywhere but her face, but he felt it. The frustration.

She breathed in, “ **Alright.** ”

They met each other with unspoken words; the pile of disarray apparent between them and both unable to organize the chaos. It was stifling and obtrusive, and they left it there—unresolved.

“ **Bye then.** ”

The woman severed their connection and left Maul in the dark, the sharpness of her farewell echoing in the air.

His hands strained with the Force and the holotable creaked under the pressure. Somehow, even after getting the woman to return, the conversation ended in her favor and his defeat. He felt like a fool being tested by his own incompetence for Maul could see them drifting apart and continued to struggle on how to shorten the gap.

Their relationship had never been simple, but at least it was manageable before she decided to express herself.

 _You forced her to._ If he had known what it would have led to, he wouldn’t have bothered.

He released the tension on the holotable and dropped to the floor in a meditative position, prepared to spread the rage throughout his body. But her knees and ankles flashed in his mind’s eye along with her hair twisted in the crown of flora. An urge to have her captured with the naked eye and not through a holoprojection quaked in his chest, and he found suppressing it became a difficult task.

The room shuttered under the confusion and when he heard the disappointment in her voice, the pain in her eyes, he lashed out at the holotable and had it removed from its base—severed wires and blue sparks striking angry shadows on his features.

Defeated. Tired. Worn. Maul held his head in his hands from an utter loss of what to do.

 _Ignore it_. He had his apprentice doing what she should finally be doing. There was nothing else to be expected other than exploring and expanding on her abilities, and yet Maul continued to search for that control he lost sight of. She was slipping through his fingers and he didn’t know how to contain what it was they had before.

 _Give in_? He didn’t know what he would be giving in to. What it would mean if he did.

Maul called a random datapad from the bed with the Force and searched for anything to occupy his thoughts.

Eventually, the increasing neglect would all explode between them, larger than what transpired that night, but he hadn’t the strength to face it. Not now.

And he wasn’t sure if he ever would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :]
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> [Blog](chaoticookie-autonomous.tumblr.com)


	3. Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:   
> Rated M for drugs/alcohol and under the influence

“Remember if you need anything, just contact Kyp or Betts.”

“Yes, Móni. For the hundredth time, I know,” Avin set a foot on the starship’s ramp, more than ready to relinquish his friend from the planet she jailed herself in. “You’re really stretching out this goodbye.”

“Am I?” Móni picked on a wall with chipped paint. “Normal for me.”

He did not hide his raised eyebrows to shine blue disbelief at the obvious, unsettled state she was in.

“Don’t overthink it and do your job.”

“You don’t think I won’t? Do my job.”

“Móni,” Avin grabbed her firm biceps and held her in place. “I love you but is he worth your sanity? You barely had any to begin with.”

Móni cracked a chuckle. Behind Avin was Andelm’s luscious greenery and bright fauna, and in the distance was a stream of smoke disappearing into the crisp atmosphere that marked the gigoran’s settlement. She was comfortable and freer than she ever could have been compared to her time on D’Qar, but every day she woke up with an emptiness incapable of being filled with any sort of distraction.

“I don’t know,” there was a sour taste in her mouth when she recalled her last conversation with Maul. His defiance from even broaching the subject and pretending there was nothing wrong gutted her. “Maybe it’s because I have none there’s nothing left of me to care. But I won’t allow myself to be emotionally manipulated.”

A theelin male with rose skin flashed a grin with no sincerity and Móni held back a sneer from the wicked gleam in his emerald eyes she wished was considered earlier in their lives.

“Never again.”

***

_Am I walking? I can’t tell._

The floor melded with her feet and there was a familiar voice whispering in her ear. He laughed and repeated with a slur of how funny and charming she was over and over.

There were moments Móni blinked and found herself in a completely different environment than the one she was in before. It was disconcerting. Alarming at times. She didn’t know what direction she was being taken to, but there were sparks of clarity when the surroundings could be made out. Tried as she might to move her thick tongue or pull out of her companion’s hold, none of the desires to be returned to her flat came across and continued to be dragged through the musty corridors.

Another blink and she was before a door with a blurred number that couldn’t be put into focus when she squinted at it. The concentration gave her a rush of nausea and she swallowed back the vile rushing up her throat.

A burst of distorted laughter, “Try to hold it in until we get you to the refresher.”

They stumbled into the room, a purple light from a neon sign outside illuminating the drab apartment with a faint glow over empty food trays and ration bar packets. Past the main area was the bedroom that instigated a drop of dread in her stomach at the tousled sheets and flat pillows. Thankfully, Móni was dragged straight past and onto the sticky flooring of the refresher where she emptied the hot liquid from her stomach.

Blink.

She was sprawled out over the toilet with dried spit on her chin and a head that felt it was banged against the wall several times.

Móni shuffled her way out and ignored the half-naked theelin who was snoring in a crooked position on his stomach.

_Dodged a bolt there._

In the kitchen, thick with layers of grime, she found a packet of water she sucked on while rifling through drawers of random tech parts, tools, towels, and miscellaneous cookware that have collected dust.

“How does he live?” she mumbled.

A new presence pressed against her. With the water packet’s spout in her mouth, Móni stared down at a child sitting still in the shadows on a hoverchair. The blue panel lit his hand when he directed himself to her and with a quick one over noted the nutrition deficiency in his thin body and slightly sunken cheeks in his lavender face. Certain features held a striking resemblance to the passed out being in the bedroom like the silver freckles and the straight dorsum of his nose.

“Didn’t know U’lis had a kid.”

It was a struggle to keep her eyes open under the constant hammering against her skull. But she worked her concentration when the child stopped by an unsearched drawer and directed his eyes at it.

After shooting herself with a stim the headache diminished after every second and Móni felt like her usual self. Instant regret and an itch to submerge herself into a vague awareness of who she was prickled her skin.

“What’s your name?”

He avoided her gaze with downcast eyes, keeping his focus on a hand that twitched on his lap.

“Kyp.”

Meek. Sad. His emotions struck her hard, but she dowsed it fast to not create any form of sympathy that could later lead to attachment. She had no time for it, nor did she want it. Familial bonds and care for someone else.

“Móni,” she pushed through the awkwardness, assuming his father’s lifestyle by how unaffected he was with a stranger in his home. “Sorry for crashing. But, uh. Thanks for the stim. I’ll head out now.”

Delighted at the prospect of returning to her flat, Móni hurried to the exit.

“Um.”

She winced at the small call, her conscious pulling her finger away from the panel and turning with a strong suppression of her annoyance.

“Hm?”

“I usually have a droid to help me out, but she’s charging right now, and Dad is…,” he faded with insecurity gripping him tight, “And you’re the only one awake right now—”

“What do you need?” Móni spoke a little more harshly than how she intended, but social interaction was the last thing she wanted. Especially, with a child.

“My hand is getting numb and I need someone to help stretch it out for me.”

She observed the limp arm on his lap and stiff body that hadn’t moved other than his head and facial expressions. With a slight quirk in her brow, finding no issue in doing a small favor before her escape, she obliged.

Móni performed minor ministrations on his arm. Then the other one. Then he asked to have his legs set in a different position.

“Is U’lis and the droid the only ones here with you?” she finally asked while adjusting the fabric behind his neck that had been bothering him.

“Yes.”

It took all Móni had to not harbor his pain as her own and she put a safe distance between them, refraining from touching Kyp any further. Given the look of the place, it didn’t take long to put together whoever the mother was had been absent from their lives for a long time.

“Is there anything else you need?” she asked out of politeness.

“No. Thanks.”

“Okay. Uh. Nice meeting you,” she rushed while skirting her way backward, jabbed the door panel with an elbow, and slipped out.

Móni rubbed her weary face from poor sleep and couldn’t wait to collapse on her own bed and forget, for a moment, she existed. But bright blue eyes sunken in with defeat and loneliness stopped her in the middle of pedestrian traffic. She disregarded the shoulder shoves and curses while she retained the image of a half-theelin in a poorly managed apartment run by a deadbeat father and a droid.

She hummed a note of skepticism at the droid’s presence. Even if it were charging, surely there would have been enough power to do what he had asked of her.

 _So young_. Yet, his suffering was one she recognized in herself. And it didn’t sit right with her; how her own torments began at an older age with some room for a childhood in her teens.

_Not my kid. Not my problem._

In her studio flat, its condition not any better than the apartment she came from, she kicked an empty bottle out of the way to the refresher to take a distractingly long, cold shower and kept herself far away from the recent encounter.

Unable to sleep and her shift at the restaurant not starting until later in the evening, Móni took her pipe and spice from a mess of empty canisters with flecks of red powder in all of them and sunk into her bed—prepared to release reality.

Unfortunately for her, when she opened the case of powder there was hardly enough for her to get a decent high from. She threw it across the room, into the kitchen area, and dragged her nails down her cheeks.

“Kriff!”

Móni remained on the mess of her bed in fuming silence when her unclouded mind filled with the voices of trillions. It was a muddled mess of uncontrolled whispers, over time raising their volume of demands that made her head split and drowned her ears.

“Go away!” she bellowed into a flat pillow which carried so many of her screams instead of being released into the flat’s thin walls. Her body squirmed, kicking the sheets off the bed and her back arched from another screech of pain.

The hilt of a kitchen knife instigated a desperation to feel anything but the weight of the galaxy suffocating her. She bounced off and slid it off the counter, powering the blade to life, and went to press it against her forearm when a freeze-package of meat caught her peripheral.

There was a lot for one person, but it was given to her for free from the restaurant’s inventory, the expiration date past the time it could be served to customers. Móni never ate the products she brought home, even if they were of good quality. The motivation to cook lost the moment she was alone in the flat. But the child came to mind and wondered if he had ever eaten anything substantial.

From the time she had spent with U’lis, she garnered the child most likely hadn’t seen a decent meal for many standard months or cycles.

She took a sharp inhale and turned a blind eye from the package when another wave of terror dug themselves into her skull—focused to soon feel burning and blistering skin, and hopefully nothing afterward. But the blade hovered just above the skin of her wrist, trembling in her grasp.

 _Breathe in.Breath out.Breathe in.Breathe out._ She stamped the blade’s hilt onto the counter, a sob breaking past her lips.

Móni was on the floor, the heated blade resting before her in case she ever changed her mind, but eventually the voices faded, leaving her at peace.

_For now._

The blade was shut off, and before Móni knew it, she was ringing a door’s panel with a bag of utensils and the freeze-package.

“You want me to make you something? Looking a little on the thin side.”

Kyp stared with a slack jaw then a note of suspicion shrunk back his small nose, “You want something from my dad?”

Móni burst in a fit of laughter and held her tongue from saying a rather crude joke she shouldn’t say in front of a child.

“If I wanted something from him, he would not be passed out right now.”

_Still came out weird._

“So, what do you say? I make a killer steak.”

“We don’t have any foodstuffs.”

“Brought some.”

The young theelin bit his lower lip in thought and tilted his head of six small horns to the side, analyzing the bulking bag slung over her shoulder.

“Alright.”

A smile tugged on his lips and for the first time in years, Móni felt the weight of time and self-deprecation off her shoulders.

***

The humid jungle ecosystem was an immediate smack to her face when Móni stepped off the ramp of her starship. There was the not most substantial welcoming of the slight difficulty to breathe in the warm air, but it did trigger parts of the planet she had missed.

It didn’t take long to stretch out her senses across the palms, fruit trees, and tall grass for the presence of a group of warriors scattered around the area and under her feet. However, there wasn’t a trace of the one individual her heart pounded with trepidation at. She should have been relieved at the prospect, but there was only disappointment in the curl of her fingers and set jaw.

“Hey there!”

Myn crossed the field, flattened from the constant starship landings over the course of many years.

“Long time no see,” Móni grinned at the man with the distinctive scar on his lips.

They shared an embrace, the sharp edges of his armor pressed against her skin but not uninviting.

“Avin tells me you’re not so crazy anymore since leaving here.”

“Responsibilities does things to you. I don’t recommend it.”

He patted her back, “I think you’re close enough to being called a decent, normal human being.”

Móni pushed a long smirk of resentment, “If only.”

Not wanting to brace the subject that took every brain cell to comprehend the mystics of the galaxy in some cosmic level, Myn focused on what was important to him and his clan.

“What you’ve done on Andelm IV wasn’t all moving things or choking people with your mind. I know a good chunk of what went on there was you being who you are.”

“A wisecrack whose favorite pastime is eating and cooking?”

Myn did his best to withhold a retort meant to scold but thought better than to let her ruin the moment with her cheekiness.

“You’re pretty extraordinary.”

“Aw,” Móni patted his cheek. “Did someone miss me?”

“I’m being serious.”

“I know you’re seriously sure you’ve missed my cooking. Unless I can leave Betts at her post in the mess hall?”

“Oh, no,” he stressed. “We’re tired of her. None of us know how you deal with her or can take her on missions.”

“She can’t be that bad.”

“We ask for something and she gives us the exact opposite saying things like ‘I don’t have time to feed your needs. You’re not destitute.’ ”

Móni exploded into laughter and wiped a tear from her eye, “I’m so glad I asked her to stay here.”

Myn scoffed, “You didn’t ask her! The droid demanded to stay, and you okayed it.”

“That sounds about right.”

There was a lull in their jabs of insults against one another which Myn took the opportunity to pop the woman’s protective bubble.

“Not going to ask?”

“Ask what?” Móni pulled on a purple leaf with red vines they bypassed and slowly tore into tiny pieces.

“If he’s here or not?”

“I know he’s not.”

“Right. Forgot you all can do that.”

Móni’s focus on the shredding leaf consumed her, forcing herself not to think on the reason she came back. But when she reached the petiole, Móni flicked it away and the mouth she held shut by pure will opened to hurl her curiosity at the poor man who was briefly put in the middle of his leaders’ feud.

“Where is he?”

“Lord Maul is meeting with the Crymorah syndicate. Finally wrapping up negotiations after a whole lot of avoidance.”

She nodded, then clicked her tongue, “What do you think of this upcoming task we’re doing?”

“How do you mean?” Myn didn’t catch on.

A wide and steady smirk made its way across her face, “As much he denies what he put himself into, we’re attending a grandiose and posh event. I’m surprised he agreed to do it.”

“I don’t understand why he wouldn’t. This is an important step for the syndicate.”

“I know,” Móni calmed Myn’s rapid defense for his lord, “but I’m curious to see him in that kind of environment. I mean, can you imagine?”

She was close to exhaling a laugh but swallowed it back when she met scolding hazel eyes.

Móni surrendered her palms up and cleared her throat, “Sorry.”

_Avin would have found it funny._

At the base, Móni was greeted with many handshakes upon her return. She smiled at the warriors’ obvious enthusiasm and their compliments toward her and Avin’s work at Andelm IV, but her sincerity only went so far to appear cordial. The weight on her chest increased the longer she stood amongst the men and women who swore themselves to one idealism and die in the field of battle as was their clan’s code. All the while, she stared into the dark visors of their history and Móni knew she had become one of them—knowingly following behind a dark and tormented being who would sacrifice them in a heartbeat to fulfill his goal. Yet, none of them cared. And neither did she.

More than happy to assume her role as an obedient servant, Betts relinquished her authority in the kitchen to her owner and Móni had never seen the mess hall so full in the short years she worked there. In the commotion of hands reaching for trays and cups from the counter, their language slipped off their tongues and directed toward her. Never in her career amongst the Mandalorians had they spoken to her in Mando’a and, although she had studied it with Avin, it came to her as a genuine surprise when she was referred to as _vod_. Not everyone, however, expressed the same camaraderie.

With her newly acquired intermediate level of engineering, Móni tried her hand in adjusting some of the kitchen’s equipment and raising the required heat level some had lost from overuse.

There was a partly disassembled voltaic kiln pushed into the kitchen’s center where Móni was deep inside its circuitries to find the source of the problem. Her search led to the connection’s source of a burned-out filter-combline.

“Gonna need a new one,” she sat back with a sigh.

A cluster of malign beings pressed into the room and she stood fast to see over the counter and into the empty mess hall of tables and chairs where the cleaning droids and Betts were picking up the remnants of the warriors’ supper. However, she could not see what she felt and started forward when a bolt shot at Betts and electrified her into silence.

Móni slid across the countertop and was only able to catch a glimpse of Mandalorians running through the exit.

“Aruetii!”

Stunned at the word she did not recognize but heard the strong inflection of insult in their tone, Móni let them go; unconcerned with their resentment but alarmed for her droid.

“Betts?” she put a hand on the steaming head with photoreceptors dimmed to gray.

The only ones who understood the droid’s assembly and components, also fabricated by a brilliant mind who was no longer alive, were Kyp and Betts. Móni made a nervous scratch on her scalp when she opened Betts’ compartment and was engulfed in smoke.

“Kriff.”

Whatever was going on inside there was beyond her capabilities, but she did what she could. Her hands turned black from the toil and she felt dry smears of oil or carbon dust on her face and along her arms, but nothing she did could power her friend to life.

It wasn’t a loss, Móni knew Kyp or Avin could fix her within an hour time, but the ones who did it surged her emotions with discourse of her place amongst them. She knew pleasing everyone wasn’t possible—her personality was not something anyone could acclimate to like Avin, Myn, Kyp, and even Maul.

 _Still…_ It may be a cause for concern if they were turning hostile. It could have also been a bunch of upstarts wanting to get a rile out their leader’s apprentice and test her nerve.

 _Why now?_ Baelis would get aggressive when he sniffed out the slightest shift in character from his lord. _Did something happen while I was away?_ Maul never opened his emotions to anyone—he hardly showed them to her—but there must have been some drastic change if she was being attacked for it.

A small part of herself whispered the connection to that night, but she refused to believe Maul was affected by it when he was trying so hard to avoid the situation.

“Whatever,” Móni mumbled and dived into her droid’s circuits again. “I don’t care.”

_Keep telling yourself that… liar._

-

It only took one footfall on the planet when Maul felt her energy echo across the field and it stifled his lungs. The hot night could have been blamed for the shallow breathing, but this time he did not go through the usual stages of denial and accepted the fear and anger boiling under his skin to fuel himself with the only remedy he knew.

Kast, Saxon, and Baelis were at his heels when he stormed toward their base, blocking every bit of the woman’s presence the closer he came.

 _I’ll deal with her later_ , for Maul had more important matters in need of his attention.

“ **Yes, Kyp is here** ,” Vos spoke behind his fingers. “ **My sister doesn’t know we are acquainted.** ”

Maul added nothing to say about the woman's young companion, the child’s involvement probably a convenience. He was not only talented but subtle, having left no digital prints behind that could travel back to the apprentice or him. In the brevity he was with the theelin in person, Maul was rightly aware of their Force sensitivity and made no mention of it to the woman.

 _A potential apprentice for her_ , if she remotely cared about Sith practices the two together could be seen as a threat to him and his empire. For this one instance, Maul was thankful she was who she was.

 _Not true_ , never the one instance. He had embraced her character entirely and couldn’t imagine her being any other way. Sith, Jedi, warrior, or a compromising human, Maul didn’t want her to change.

“ **As for your cover** ,” Vos returned him to the conversation he wished would end so he could finally see…

_Don’t finish that thought._

“ **You shouldn’t be questioned, but nearly everyone invited harbors animosity toward the Empire,** **so blending in shouldn’t be too difficult.** ”

Maul didn’t share Vos’ optimism, somewhat skeptical with the people he knew—believed he knew. He released a scowl, a part of him wanting to cancel the entire arrangement so he could remain in the shadows where he pulled the necessary strings without making appearances. But these dignitaries were more difficult to please than he expected; reputation, allegiances, and fear being the main factors of their hesitation.

“Will that be all?” he turned his back to the holoprojector and absently checked the chronometer, which read long past midnight. His strong exhale must have been indication enough for Vos to speed up his report.

“ **We will see you in a standard weeks’ time—** "

With a wave of his hand, Maul ended the conversation and whirled out of the briefing room. Down the corridor, past the warriors’ dormitories, the armament chamber, and power supply room, he stopped at a dead-end where the mess hall was. He felt her on the other side, a lulling calm, but no smell wafting through the door’s cracks. His finger hovered over the panel, then after a determined inhale selected his fate.

Every possible scenario of what could transpire exploded through Maul’s thoughts like a star going into supernova; each one ending in an argument or him being left without satisfaction when the apprentice would tip toward a defeatist attitude to appease his anger. Then he would consider his options if they did go down that route and what he could do to smooth out the thorns of their relationship.

 _And if she brings up that night?_ He still had no answer for her or himself.

Gravity weighed against him with a temptation to turn around and brief her on their mission through a simple datafile, but his footfalls resounded across the empty hall and carried him to a figure on her side across a table with arms stained black and whose sleeping face was marked in smears.

 _Of course, she’s asleep_ , it was all the woman did besides eating and cooking.

Although his nightmarish expectations were crushed Maul did not reject the relief that overcame him at the confrontation’s postponement for several minutes longer. He should have woken her up and in the usual way when she decided to oversleep during her earlier days of training; prying her mind until she awoke in a violent stupor.

Her opinions of him were low during those times, he knew, from the glares, impertinence, and total lack of interest to follow simple orders. Although he didn’t care enough about the woman to consider her feelings then, as the phases of their lives progressed in unison, Maul found himself caring too much about them—constantly thinking of what and why and how she felt, even if they weren’t aligned with her training to the Dark Side.

Móni’s thoughts of him changed since then, drastically so, but that dip in the corner of her lips and eyes dulled with discontent from their last transmission haunted him. His fear battled for dominance against the satisfaction of her return at his side, the parsecs between them finally diminished to inches. 

Maul followed the rise and fall of her chest and shoulder down to her black hand dangled off the edge that lazily pointed to her slumped droid. With the Force, he dislodged a bolt the width of a needle and the length of a thumbnail from the door of its opened chest cavity. The projectile floated above his palm in a slow spin and immediately recognized its model. His hand encased the small device in a tight grip then pocketed it for later use.

He searched the area for any tools and found the singular one tucked under the woman’s cheek. Maul started with using the Force to extract it, but the apprentice moaned from the movement and he immediately halted the attempt.

 _Why would it matter if she woke? Good riddance if she did._ A muted exhale. _Not prepared. Not_ yet, to stare at the glaring sunset fueled with fire, ready to fight back.

But he needed that tool.

An attempt to lift her head with the Force caused a disturbance in her dreams from the way her eyebrows furrowed with disapproval and a sharp rise in her defenses.

 _Interesting_ , a new trait she developed.

Maul mentally criticized himself for coming up with the worst idea in existence, but his hands flexed open and closed multiple times with a silent desire. With as much tact and care he could muster, he tucked a hand under her head, the sensation of her curls grazing against the fabric of his glove numbing the nerves in his hand, and for a moment he wondered if he could trust himself keeping it suspended. But Maul quickly called for the tool with the Force and returned her cheek without an impending object against it. His fingers grazed the skin of her face and his jaw clenched when he was afflicted with a craving to connect skin against skin.

He pulled back fast and rubbed his hand against his pants, but it did nothing to rid of the heat rising to his neck or her phantom fingers rubbing along flesh to smooth cold balm on an old wound that suddenly ached for her touch again.

 _I need to leave._ It was becoming too much for him to handle and contain. The discipline Maul was trained to maintain the Dark Side with slipped further away, day after day, since she altered the security of their bonds as master and apprentice. The anger was diffusing, the hate was fading, but the fear was the most prominent he had ever felt, and it wasn’t for his life. He didn’t know what to do with it or how to use it or what it meant; only he was locked in an endless swirl of confusion.

 _Use it_ , he chided to himself and gripped the dead droid with a deep scowl pulling down on his features. He pushed it as far from the woman as possible, dreading the mistake for falling under the spell of his own impulse. 

_Never again!_

If the woman was awake or if they weren’t in a massive bout, Maul would have shaken her brain to straighten out whatever mess it was in to have been capable of creating an epic disaster inside her ‘precious’ droid. The mismatched wires, misplaced core units, and some unattached processors were traces of her skills in engineering. He started on retracing the damage and fixing the obvious mistakes that were so poorly executed it was almost unbelievable.

But Maul knew her. Understood her. How she wouldn’t say a word about the Mandalorian's sabotage and carry it with her to the grave, the hints of distraction in every circuit she touched, and the attachment she has to the droid because of its link to the child.

He planned to only go as far as to turn the blasted thing on so it could fix itself for he was finding the assembly of its parts rather sophisticated and done by someone with a far higher skill level than himself. He recalled the apprentice briefly mentioning the droid was built by the child's mother.

Slight curiosity of their history and when the apprentice appeared in the picture buzzed in his thoughts. Maul took a moment to breathe in at the unnecessary need to peruse the woman’s past when its exposure did nothing to impact her training. Then he was transported to a frigid planet where she shouted her want to understand him and know him.

 _We’re similar_ , their emotions, _too similar_.

He tugged on a cable to redirect its power elsewhere and the droid's photoreceptors flashed for several seconds until it faded off, transferring to the holoprojector display that illuminated from its chest.

A holorecording danced on the mess hall’s floor of a woman with waves of brunette hair cascading down her back and in her striking blue eyes, Maul was staring back at the theelin child.

“ **Come here, Kyp** ,” she waved off projection. “ **Let me show you how to fix Betts in case I’m not here**.”

The child hovered into view, far smaller but with the same hoverchair he had currently.

“ **Why wouldn’t you be here?** ” young innocence asked.

The mother forced a smile and pinched his round cheek, “ **In case I’m working late or I’m passed out because Betts gave me food poisoning**.”

The child giggled, “ **It’s not that bad**.”

The mother’s grin faltered and she turned away fast to hide the water pooling in her eyes.

“ **So, here is the central processing unit…** ”

Maul followed along the redhead's instructions of a planned and properly executed guide meant for the theelin; the intention so blatantly clear of her impending disappearance.

It was coming together, the intricacies of her creation making sense, when a male voice disrupted the lecture.

“ **Nuit! Where’s Kyp?** ”

After a light curse she answered tightly, “ **He’s with me**.”

A tall theelin male with striking features and emerald pools that were narrowed in anger at the scene before him stepped into view—the freckles gleamed off his skin under certain movements with the lighting.

“ **What’s he doing**?” he accused.

“ **I’m teaching him how to fix Betts in case we’re not here to help.** ”

“ **And how is he going to do that?** ”

“ **U’lis**!” the human stood and faced the taller male with an equal amount of rage.

“ **Watch! I can do it** ,” Kyp attempted to dissuade the situation by syncing the console on his armrest to the droid’s arms and controlling them. “ **See? Look what Mom and I were able to do**.”

The tall theelin Force pushed the droid out of the holoprojector's range but the sound of it smacking hard against the wall was captured.

“ **You’re a Force wielder! Use it!** ”

“ **But I don’t want to—** "

“ **U’lis, stop!** ”

U'lis held Nuit in place with the Force and extended a hand toward Kyp.

The projection was abruptly severed and Móni was facing away from Maul, her hands holding the droid’s head in a shaking grip.

“You didn’t have to fix Betts. Thought you hated her.”

Her voice pierced his skin like a thousand needles and Maul would have rather had her lose her temper at him instead of the melancholy she was so susceptible to drown in.

 _Why, indeed_ , was what he could muster to himself. A peace offering?

 _No. Pathetic_. He simply knew how much the droid meant to her.

“How did it break?” he dodged and directed the conversation toward her.

“Short circuited,” she said quickly, her head still bowed away from his view and showing him only the tangled bush of her curls gathered on top of her head with loose strands touching the nape of her neck.

Having had expected such a response, Maul let go of the issue altogether and put his hands to his steel knees to stand.

“You’ve known about the child?”

Móni drew circles atop the droid’s head with her soot-covered fingers and it was becoming increasingly bothersome being unable to look her in the eyes.

“I had my suspicions. Never seen that holorecording, though,” she spoke under her breath, the statement meant more for herself. “Worried I’ll get an apprentice under you?”

The woman jabbed at him and not with good humor. There was a sharpness to her tone and if Maul played into her hands another unresolved argument would be wonderfully crafted by the two of them. And he was tired of it. He was tired of the stress and anxiety and having to feel the penetrating winds of the pain he caused. The woman was just exhausting through and through.

“I had already known for some time of the child’s Force sensitivity.”

There was a mulling silence then a smack of her lips, “Of course you’ve known.”

 _She’s being difficult_ , there was a twitch of annoyance in his lip and nostril, and it took all his self-control to not lash out.

“Did you know his parents?” he did not engage with whatever she was trying to start with him and perused a topic she was weak against.

“Not the mother but the father…,” her voice faded into a memory she lost herself in that extended into the quiet air turning it stale with a flux of emotions he wasn’t sure was meant for him or in correlation with the holorecording.

A chill ran down Maul’s spine when the Dark Side surged from her, but it was stifled the moment it came when she made a shaky inhale.

He lifted a hand, not sure what he was going to do with it, but her depression swooped in and sucked out the woman’s happiness, and Maul suspected something in that recording was the cause. As if she felt his presence drawing near, she pressed close to the droid and away from his touch.

“Did you fix her?” she fiddled with some of the settings without awaiting a response and the droid powered to life. “Hey, Betts. How are you feeling?”

The droid’s photoreceptors dialed opened, “Running a diagnostic.”

Móni did not acknowledge him while she waited and Maul took it upon himself to circle around, putting the droid between them. Her fingers were making dents in the metal’s surface and the muscles in her face were wound tight with regret and hate. She did the opposite of looking up and bowed her head further, curled bangs shading the drops of orange he needed to see.

“Apprentice,” he called to her and was proud of the firmness in the voice.

She jolted at the command, but the droid took her attention away.

“I doubt you were the one who fixed me.”

“Got that right.”

 _Finally_. Finally, she met him, and he sunk into their watery brightness. He wanted to get closer, the distance still too far, but there was an invisible barrier erected before her and made by the thorns of their bond and a history unknown to him that suffocated her.

“Did you want to brief me now or wait until tomorrow?”

The way her body was turned slightly away, the immediate loss of eye contact, and the grimace tugging down on her smooth features; she didn’t want to be there or with him.

Fury expanded his chest and reached his fists as if she had slapped him across the face. To be unwanted—a nuisance—was the greatest insult she could have given him. There was defeatism that refrained her from putting up a fight, to throw her wit around or shoot glares his way and he would have preferred it over her disregard.

At least in an argument he had her attention. And in her fits and stomping and flailing arms Maul still felt... 

_Wanted_.

He sucked in a breath, teeth bared in a snarl, “A datafile of our assignment will be sent to you.”

“Fine.” She was quick to divert back to the droid, “You got it from here?”

“As long someone doesn’t shoot again, then sure.”

She made a final pat on the droid’s head and stalked off without giving him another note of acknowledgment.

Maul’s breath caught in his chest and the weight on his steel footfalls bounced across every corner of the mess hall—once a place of refuge turned into an acrid environment.

“What was in the recording that turned you into a complacent youngling?”

Móni stopped and gave Maul the recognition he sought, though the cost of it came with the Force quaking under her will. But he refused to be subdued by idle threats, especially from an apprentice.

“Nothing.”

“You are lying,” Maul rivaled with the woman’s strain of the Force in the palm of his hand.

Exhaustion sunk into her body and she held his gaze with a resolve that had him drop his defenses in anticipation for some cooperation.

Her brows closed together in confusion, “The Force and Rogue Jedi have gotten louder. To the point of disrupting my daily life. It’s been worse without…”

She trailed to silence, never breaking her hold on him and the ice shield cracking when the sharpness around her eyes softened. Móni ran her fingers along both sides of her head, easing her frustration and releasing the Force.

“Since I’ve been gone it’s gotten worse. But I’ve been meditating a lot more despite it and I think I’ve gotten better at really blocking them and have them finally leave me alone.”

Maul eyed her with scrutiny, not doubting her truth but certain she was avoiding a large part of it, and he tightened his jaw in preparation to delve deeper into the source but his resolve crumbled when he felt those familiar caresses of her soft energy against his.

“You can’t,” his throat was tight, and he put his hands behind his back to hide their shaking. “You can’t ignore the Force for long. There will come a point where your indifference will lead to consequences. It is a part of you.”

“Yes, Master.”

There was a playful quirk in her lips, and it was enough to thaw his body from the Dark Side followed by an exhale to release the surge of impatience he allowed to build in him.

“This is a serious matter.”

“I can list a hundred things more serious than my problems with a meddling,” she twirled her hand at the one thing she wholeheartedly despised, “thing.”

“Apprentice,” he lightly scolded, knowing her struggles and yet unable to truly understand them. Her circumstances unique and nearly ethereal, Maul could only guide her in the direction he knew best to tap into her potential.

“I know, I know. Just let me,” she breathed in with a passion burning inside her. One he had never felt before, “let me have this moment of silence now I know I’m getting so close to shutting it off and on at will.”

Muttering to her since she was born was the voice of every being long since past in every language known throughout galactic history. Maul hadn’t taken the time to consider the implications of having such an ability or how often she heard them. What it meant to be what she was.

“And I am under the impression once you reach that point, you will keep it _off_.”

“We’ll see once I get there. If I get there.”

The spark of light Maul thought he ignited was snuffed out and a dark cloud engulfed the woman again, pushing him away.

“Is that,” she started again, eyes glanced to the exit, “all for tonight?”

 _No_. He couldn’t get rid of the possibility of her leaving into the night again with such a morose expression eating away at her.

Maul made a stiff nod, regret twitched at the corner of his mouth.

She turned. Took one step. Then another further away from him.

“Móni.”

He dropped his hands and flexed them at his sides, the strain he put on them including the tense muscles making them ache. But Maul didn’t plan his next words when she actually stopped to consider him with questions gleaming off those Sith-like hues riddled with innocence instead of hatred.

His mouth opened and closed until an unprocessed thought reached his tongue and slipped past his lips in a muddled mess.

“Give me time. To understand.”

 _To solve this monstrous riddle of our lives you created_.

Maul held his breath and remained completely still when her emotions brushed against his barriers.

A modest smile broke through her features and she huffed a dry chuckle. Móni lightly bit the inside of her lip and expressed unease in her twitching fingers and light foot tapping.

She moved close enough for her scent to reach him and Maul dropped his defenses to take in the sweet spices mingled with a devotion pointed solely at him. Then his hand was taken in hers, her warmth melding into the leather fabric and spreading up his arm and to his neck.

The galaxy was lost in her and there was no sound other than her deep breaths and his heartbeats.

“Okay,” a squeeze on his hand for reassurance. “I’ll be seeing you.”

She slipped out of his limp grasp, her touch tracing off his fingertips.

By the time his palm turned cold, Maul had come back to reality and Móni was long gone with traces of her fondness left lingering in the air.

The smile was faint but enough for him to know he must have done something right. He hoped.

“I’d rather watch a pair of blurrgs courting each other than you two,” the droid rolled past. “At least they get straight to it.”

A growl ripped through his chest, “Careful with who you speak to, droid. You may not be so fortunate next time.”

“As opposed to any other time I have been whenever she’s involved? Please.”

“Why do you remain by her side if you despise her?”

Maul, once and for all, would like to find any excuse to get the droid detached from its master and away from him forever.

Its vocabulator glowed softly before illuminating brightly, “Kyp told her I was a gift because she didn’t know the difference between a flux converter and a stabilizing coil. But what he told me was to keep an eye on her.”

“How do you mean?”

“You remember how she was when you found her? Imagine that but worse.”

A time of her life directly before his involvement. She had only mentioned it in passing, twice.

 _The recording_ , Maul grazed his lower lip with his thumb, piecing what he knew together.

“What was her relationship with the child’s father?”

It snapped its head around and rolled past the exit, “Complicated.”

The door slid shut on the final piece of information, and he scowled at the empty space and empty word that could have meant a myriad of things.

 _Useless_.

Well, not completely.

 _Worse than before_? Before she gained a foothold in the Force and a control of it. Before he made her draw out the source of her fear, anger, and hate.

 _Before me_.

There were pieces she showed of her suffering, but he couldn’t imagine it on a larger scale.

 _Another time_.

He had just gotten to her better side which meant easier cooperation for the insufferable assignment lurking around the corner. The last thing Maul needed was a problem with an apprentice during an event that could tip the scales of Crimson Veil’s success or failure. And he trusted her enough where a slight trigger of the past wouldn’t get in the way of her due diligence.

His right hand twitched and her scent resurfaced in his memories. Maul’s scowl deepened with frustration. At her for being so shameless and bold. At himself for allowing it and wanting it. He ran the hand down his face and started for his quarters when a terrorizing realization came to light.

In the augmentation room where the apprentice built her lightsaber and was the only other area in the entire compound Maul had total privacy as it was also where he tuned his cybernetics, he collapsed onto a stool; his fingers pressed against his forehead.

The biggest mistake he made in the entire ordeal was having her quarters so close to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	4. Weakness

“What in the star systems...?”

Móni scrolled through the datafile sent personally from her master. She was accustomed to missions being brought to her hands last minute, but not when her alias was blurred between an apprentice and not an apprentice. It appeared the topic of her own status was never discussed between Vos and Maul, which was a strange outcome when they were the most meticulous crime lords she had ever met.

An agriculture droid came to her with two plump orange berries but whose stem leaves have been eaten through. 

It chirped in binary, offering a solution.

“No pesticides. Move some of these herbs around,” she pointed. “Their smell will keep them away.”

After a confirmed beep, the droid gathered the others to dig and replant the herbs while Móni deliberated her next choice of action. One she never found herself doing in their current millennia.

The holodevice blinked until a projection illuminated from her palm.

“ **Miss Durmónia** ,” Vos drawled with mild surprise; poise and prestige lifting his shoulders and straightening his back. “ **To what do I owe this rare transmission?** ”

Neither were particularly pleased to see the other and it did not take a specialist to decipher the hints of distaste between them. But Vos upheld his etiquette, rightfully aware of the woman's status and close ties with his lord.

“I’m going to skip right to it,” Móni narrowed at him, “Maul is under the impression my cover is his apprentice, but I don’t see anything like that in here. So, what _is_ my role?”

He clicked his tongue and searched for an answer from the corner of his eyes which had Móni grind her teeth in irritation.

“I don't have all day,” she pushed, though, Móni couldn't fathom what could have possibly made Vos withhold information from Maul for so long.

“ **You see…** ,” he started, measuring her with a decision to entrust something to his lord’s closest ally and not suffer from the repercussions of colluding with her.

A glint of clarity sparked in his blue irises and the cogs of his mind worked fast behind them.

“ **Do you know what led me to invite him to the event?** ” 

“To put your illustrious lord in the most uncomfortable setting you can think of?” she jabbed at him--hard.

Vos cleared the discomfort from his throat but bounced back to get his point across when he didn’t gather a serious threat from Móni, only the sly deception of one.

“ **Lord Maul killed a potentially important ally for our cause, and it wasn’t** ,” he wavered between expressing his frustrations or keeping them close to his chest, “ **the first time**.”

Móni's growing smirk faltered at the implications hidden within the final statement and Maul’s state of mind when he was completing his own operations.

“He’s been killing our targets?”

“ **Not all** ,” Vos was quick to cover the poor image he may have painted of the crime lord. “ **But some of his decisions have been rather… costly.** ”

 _He’s getting desperate and impatient,_ with those he deemed inferior. His frustrations were exploding in his face along with the unchecked anger he so readily surrendered to, and Vos made the administrative decision to put Maul in a situation where he had power, control, and was forced to be tamed.

Her personal opinion of Vos was only affected by his character and not necessarily the inability to do his job or loyalty to Maul. So, Móni replaced the pompous dignitary with a capable and intelligent face of the Crimson Veil.

“Alright,” she reflected on his reasons to keep his lord in line even if they only involved his personal success within the crime syndicate. “I think your long preface has me prepped enough to finally hear your idea.”

“ **The two of you are too close in age for you to be his apprentice or successor, and the dynamic you have with him would not match either. So, you should be a couple.** ”

She choked.

_Worst possible time to do this._

“Does it really matter who I am? It’s the only time any of them will be seeing us.”

“ **In order to make things easier for you and not appear suspicious** , **the simplest and obvious choice is the better one**.”

Móni blew a lip trill and mulled through alternative options. It was the safest one, the man having had known--in some part--hers and Maul’s relationship. His trust in her and their duality.

She rubbed the cheek of her face down to her neck at the discomfort pulsing under the skin.

 _But not altogether impossible to pull off_. 

“I’ll tell him when it’s too late for him to do anything about it.”

There had to be more to it than just a factor of age. Móni couldn’t believe Vos was as simplistic as that. Then it struck her with a snap of her fingers.

“You want me to keep an eye on him.”

“ **In a sense** ,” he did not deny and slid a scolding stare. “ **That is if you could refrain from offending anyone**.”

Vos rubbed his forehead, clearly feeling the pressure of who he was dealing with.

“ **I have a murderous lord with,** ” he wiggled his finger, “ **telepathic abilities and a snarky woman leading this operation and it’s going to be disastrous isn’t it?** ”

“If it does end in shambles, we only got you to blame,” she grinned.

Vos straightened a cuff with an aggressive tug, “ **I am well aware**.”

“How’s Kyp doing?”

The abrupt shift had him stumble, “ **He is accommodated**.”

“Face of the Crimson Veil or not, if anything happens to him you’ve got a snarky woman with telepathic abilities to watch out for as well.”

Vos could only slump with an exhale of disgust from the circle of powerful beings he had absolutely zero control over.

“ **Will that be all, Miss Durmónia?** ”

“Yes, sir,” she winked and waved before shutting the projection off.

“A disaster indeed.”

The week flew by faster than she would have liked, the crops keeping her occupied and training sessions completed without the master to coach her; his avoidance apparent and deftly executed in a base that wasn’t large enough to lose anyone. Not even luring him into the mess hall with an opened door and a freshly prepared meal worked, and instead attracted several false alarms of Mandalorians who fell for her late-night trap.

 _Probably didn’t appreciate the hand holding_.

Móni smacked her head on the yoke, her anxiousness keeping her from sleeping, and arrived on the starship much earlier than their departed time. The sensation of his thick hand in hers was so immensely satisfying her body twitched for the hold again and the dizziness from her heated face.

To smooth her jumping nerves she ran diagnostics, checked their supplies, sent even more recipes to Betts who opted to stay behind and not involve herself in another covert mission, and memorized every corner of the ship from the number of times she paced through it.

“Should have forced Vos to find a new alias for us. I’m the boss not him!”

She leaned back into the plush seat, wishing for a gas leak so she could combust into flames.

“Just act normal.”

_But you’re not normal._

Móni stiffened at his presence approaching and by reflex alone snapped a fast grip on the yoke's handles.

“If you want to be of any use to me, now’s the perfect time to do something,” she spoke to the Force and expected nothing as usual.

Each metal footfall made the compression on her chest tighten further until she began to question the ship's air quality but she ran enough diagnostics to know that wasn’t where the issue was.

She felt the heat radiate from his body beside her and after a quick glance of red, black, and piercing yellow, Móni swallowed a dry lump.

“I’ll fly the ship!”

Never had her arms moved with such speed over the control panel to power a ship and when she went to start the engine it stuttered to a stop.

A muttered curse and frantic eyes searched across the multitude of switches and blinking buttons that have melded into one monster set out to attack and swallow her whole. Then an arm stretched before her and flicked a single switch she had forgotten.

“Thanks,” the gratitude came out more like a grunt.

With some clunky maneuverability and crooked steering before finally finding balance, they shot out of the atmosphere and into hyperspace.

Rather than sink into the inevitable silence, she went to bury herself into the coordinates and ignore the massive energy in the room, but Maul situated himself in the co-pilot’s chair and took the duty upon himself.

Her final salvation and purpose taken away, Móni swiveled in the seat—the jitters expelled through fingers drumming on the armrests.

 _I don’t know what he’s feeling_ , the whining desperation echoed in her thoughts for any crumb of evidence to pinpoint his hatred or dissatisfaction for touching him out of turn again. His feelings weren’t completely blocked, the usual thrum of anger and hate, but Móni was positive he was shutting everything else out to keep a certain distance between them—as was his way.

 _He’s not saying anything_ , never a good sign. _Maybe I should say something?_ Probably make things worse.

 _What if I…?_ She stretched her feelings, moving through the thick veil that surrounded them and pressed delicately against her master’s dark shroud.

“Apprentice.”

“What?” Móni retracted in an instant and could feel a cool sweat on her brow at the close call.

Maul’s intense focus was at the viewport and the rush of stars zooming past. He took a deep inhale and returned to inputting the final sequences, choosing his next words with care.

“After we are done, you will return to D’Qar to complete your training.”

Beyond the demand, Móni sensed the layers of subtext buried within and what he refrained to express.

 _Give him time to understand_ , she had to repeat to herself.

Móni couldn’t understand the full meaning of what he meant, what conclusion he was trying to get at, but it wasn’t often Maul took initiative with something he needed for himself. And to think he was thoroughly considering her feelings was an accomplishment she never considered would be achieved with him.

She was also wracked with anxiety at the final answer. Rejection not even the worst of it. In fact, that was the best outcome she could come up with.

It would be a lie to say she didn’t feel somewhat hurt from the avoidance, but he was making his demands… Somewhat. There was that slight flutter of uncertainty in his tone, the very same way he asked her to return, although now it’s about permanent residence.

“Sure.”

And she sucked in her elation at being asked to remain at his side at all.

Maul’s stiffened spine relaxed some as he eased his body into the seat, and it gave Móni pause if that was the source of the avoidance. The possibility was almost hard to believe, that his dominion as a master was cracking, proving to her more the reasoning behind some of the Mandalorian’s agitation against her.

 _He has changed_ , in what way she couldn’t rightfully know, but it certainly wasn’t what she wanted—what she meant to happen.

 _Should have stayed quiet_ , should have shoved it all down and away.

 _Too late now_.

“Did you,” Maul began with the tinge of unease again, “take the time to train?”

She blinked several times, not expecting him to want a conversation with her.

“I did,” she stuttered to start from the sporadic nerves of surprise. “When I could. When Ziton wasn’t being an annoying little sleemo.”

“Has he been more accommodating?”

Móni shrugged, “You know how they all are. Greedy. And he feels like his power is being threatened. By me of all people,” she huffed a laugh.

As they spoke, the crime lord sitting in the co-pilot’s chair began to fade, as if Maul had shed pieces of his armor and exposed a rather normal zabrak speaking to her. All she could think, however, was how he may not have minded her breaching his boundaries again.

“You have threatened him,” Maul’s lower half of his face was hidden from the palm he was resting his chin on, but the smirk was in his eyes.

“He been complaining to you?” Móni flicked a hand with indifference. “You’re the one who picked him to be Black Sun’s leader. So, can’t put all the blame on me.”

“He does what he is told,” he regressed to the lord and master she knew, his expression hardening. “But not with you.”

His voice dropped in that level when he was unsatisfied, and a plot that lingered afterward.

“It’s not a big deal,” Móni assuaged the flux of emotion she was so familiar with, it was comforting. “Works to my benefit if he doesn’t take me seriously. Means he’s more likely to make mistakes thinking I wouldn’t notice. Anyways, I drop your name and he turns docile, so there’s that.”

Maul’s emotions were steadfast, the anger hovering about, ready to be used.

“Your methods of candor will not always be successful and the consequences harder to eliminate. Sometimes it is best to deal with matters directly.”

“Like beheading a table of leaders in one go?”

Rather than return the blow, Maul held his gaze on her, searching for an answer to a question he had yet to give. Móni wanted to look away, but it read differently. He wasn’t scolding her, there was something else he was expressing, and it wasn’t anything she had felt from him before.

“Give me your hand.”

“What?”

He extended his own and waved his fingers with impatience.

Móni displayed her palm with reluctance and a long needle was instantly placed on it. She examined the platinum and golden sheen off it:

“What is this?”

“What affected your droid the other night,” he spoke low and with an insight of what had occurred that evening.

“You know who did it?”

“Kast is looking into the situation and the one who gave the order.”

“Didn’t think of that…,” Móni rolled the thin object between her fingers, taking her time to read Maul’s feelings on the matter. “You’re not as upset I expected you to be.”

“The ones responsible know the consequences of their actions. In time, they will reveal themselves and face my judgement.”

“I mean at me,” she corrected. “My presence alone is creating a rift with the Mandos and I thought it would get better when I went away but got worse instead. They called me ‘auretii’.”

Maul bowed his head away to stare out the viewport, calculating her words before responding.

“Outsider,” he confirmed. “These warriors have a history with Jedi. Your abilities may be a threat to some. They see your growing power overtaking my own.”

“Sure, that could be—”

Móni’s thoughts drifted to her interactions with Baelis. How he noticed the changes in Maul. He didn’t see her as some all-powerful threat—he saw a weakness. And that was not what she wanted to be. That wasn’t why she spilled her feelings to him.

 _Were they right?_ Was she pulling him away from his goals?

 _Was Maul right?_ That it was a weakness.

“Móni.”

 _He’s even calling me by name more often._ But it sounded so perfect the way he pronounced it, sending a flutter from her stomach to her arms and down her legs.

“Yeah,” she pressed against the armrests, ready to leave the cockpit and deliberate on her poor choices alone. “You may be right. I’ll try to be assertive with everyone. Less jokes. More pain.”

“Do you know of a deeper motivation to their behavior?”

Of course, he read right through her. Maul was as sensitive to her as she was to him and she remembered when he would get frustrated for not understanding her thoughts.

_Simpler times._

“No, just… Don’t want to be the cause of more trouble, you know?” 

“It is a power play,” Maul held his notes of suspicion on her as he spoke. “A game I have beaten them at many times.”

“Right. Well. I suck at games. Except shockball. Miss it sometimes,” _I’m prattling. Great way to not look any more obvious_. “I’ll be in my quarters. Catch up on some sleep.”

She rose fast, her body stiff when she strode across the cockpit.

“Is that holorecording going to remain a problem?” he stood, gripping the headrest.

Móni planted her palms against the door’s frame, exhausted from a dead male’s haunts. Annoyed at Maul for being able to pinpoint, in part, the source of her stress. His vigilance knew no bounds and wondered if every apprentice had to deal with nosy masters.

 _You’re one to talk_ , she reprimanded herself. She was the most meddlesome out of the two.

“Old ghosts coming back. Ones I haven’t faced, yet,” Kyp’s face crossed her vision and she shook her head to clear the guilt. “That’s all.”

 _Please let that be enough_ , she stared longingly at the panel for an escape.

The whirring of his cybernetics closed in and his body filled the space by her side. Móni was reluctant to look him in the eyes but his intensity charged the air and she raised her head, surprised at how small the space between was; ensnaring her in his gaze that was impossibly gentle. Concerned.

 _Sad_.

There was a battle raging inside him, one she couldn’t see or comprehend. And she wanted to reach for him to soothe that crease on his forehead, but her instincts held her back; almost certain she was the center of it.

His lips twisted for words he struggled to let go and Móni searched for the tenacity to keep from staring too long at the shape of his jaw and the markings that dripped from his lips and down his chin.

However, he was distracted by something off to the side that stopped his thought process and turned his mood into one of slight amusement. He closed their distance, his scent overloading her senses and enough for her to notice the chiseled texture of his ivory horns.

After he pressed the door’s panel Maul returned to his prior position.

“You are free to go, if it is that dire.”

She wanted to ask but his eyes motioned to her fingers distorting dents into the frame.

“Oh!” Móni retracted her hand in an instant, feeling the blood rush fast to her face. “That’s not—I mean… I didn’t—I can fix that!” She paused at the damage, “No, I can’t. Probably make it worse.”

 _This is hard_ , holding back.

It started low, the rumble from deep in his chest, then it bubbled up his throat and into a soft chuckle that infected her in an instant. Móni grinned at the sound and the beauty of his smile that stretched his tattoos into new designs around the cheeks and mouth.

Then her thumb rubbed along the needle in her hand, pricking it at its pointed end, and breaking the spell of her happiness.

“Maul,” she called to him and her heart broke at the sinking expression—at the return of his hardened exterior. “Am I a weakness?”

Confusion contorted his brow ridge, “You are one of the many reasons for the Crimson Veil’s successes and…”

He drifted when Móni shook her head.

“Not to Crimson Veil. To you.”

Her words, although whispered, resounded across the cockpit and pressed down against Maul. The burden of what she asked brightened the gold irises to a haunting realization Móni wished she hadn’t uncovered.

The length of time of him not responding was enough answer as any for her and turned away.

“Forget it. I’ll be in my quarters.”

When she reached the confines of solitude, her backside collided with the door and allowed her body slide to the floor.

Whatever decision Maul would make, she hoped it was the right one.

“This is going to be a _long_ trip.”

The ticking hours with the two of them placed in a small space were spent in their respective quarters, not a word passing between them. Móni felt his unmoving presence stuck in a single spot with the rage permeating through the cracks and grazing her atmosphere. At times when she was meditating, her senses sensitive as they were in the state, it was as if Maul were in the same room as her.

She buried her face in her hands, no longer able to meditate with a clouded mind.

“You’re such an idiot.”

Their situation was sensitive enough, there was no need to go on making things worse, but it was what she excelled at. Vos trusted she could keep him in line during such a pivotal stage of the syndicate’s expansion, but she could barely cope with herself and was sure the man wasn’t blind to her ‘charms’. Móni couldn’t say if his expectations for her were flattering or stupid.

So, when they were sent out of hyperspace and a cyan and silver planet surrounded by black space and stilled stars painted the viewport, Móni was glad to soon be off the ship and air out the tension that suffocated them. 

A blinking green light lit the communications station.

“Vos,” Móni greeted the man on the other end of the transmission. “Excited to see your lord and his underling in the flesh?” The static was long and hesitant enough for her to lean in, “He’s not in the cockpit with me.”

“ **Ask me again when I’m alive to see our success**.”

“ _Your_ success, but I see your point."

“ **I’ve sent you the coordinates to the docking bay** ,” the stress he shared was apparent, but Móni could have sworn she caught a glimmer of excitement in his tone. “ **Welcome to Aldimune**.”

Her skills in flying not what they should be, the landing could have been better. But with obscene optimism and a crack of good humor, she made it work with maybe a scratch or two below the bow.

When she went to open the ramp, she was prompted it had been manually done not a second after landing.

Maul wasted no time to exit the ship and made his way to a clear and familiar image of a man who towered over him. The evasion was apparent, meaning he was thinking over what she said which gave Móni a sickly feeling in her stomach. Instead of ruminating over the words she could never take back, she engrossed herself into the new environment her consciousness connected easily with.

Trees of gray barks towered over the glittering buildings fabricated with transparisteel and cool metal to compliment the natural surroundings. Their silver leaves caught the milky sun’s rays which reflected colorful shimmers when one tilted their head or moved a certain direction. Móni leaned over the railing of the landing platform where the rose grass and sky blue florals billowed softly with the wind. When she breathed in, her lungs were cleansed by the pure and crisp scents of the new planet.

“Gorgeous,” she sighed. All stress and worries left her mind with Maul briefly tucked away in her thoughts.

“Miss Durmónia.”

Vos was a somewhat handsome being, the mix of an unknown race only visible by the faded markings that ran down his face. Although his stature was tall, his thin form and repressed fear made him rather small.

“Beautiful home,” she complimented. “Can’t wait to see inside.”

Out of civility he waited for her to finish, but he pushed directly after her with nervous fingers touching his lips, “Does he know?”

“Know what?” she stared.

Vos checked over his shoulder at Maul who had his attention elsewhere.

“About our arrangement.”

“Oh. No,” she was sure she didn’t say anything suspicious… that she knew of. “Why?”

“He seems,” he rubbed his fingers together to find the right descriptors, “more angry. If that’s possible.”

“Angry?”

There was always anger, yes, but Móni sensed far more complicated emotions swirling around Maul. Unable to quite make out the specifics of his feelings, she examined his face and the lines of hate that weren’t as prominent when he was truly in the mood to tear at someone’s flesh. But the skittish servants who were meant to be his guide into the estate retained a safe radius from him with hands pressed tightly together against their abdomens.

“Stay out of his way and it’ll be fine,” she sighed heavily through her nose while taking small notes of Maul’s body language that expressed discomfort and annoyance of the people around him and the area he was in.

Vos' blue gaze narrowed in suspicion. He glanced at Maul’s receding form, then at Móni, then behind him again. His fair skin lost some of its color when he returned to her and spoke through a stiff jaw.

“Are you in an argument?”

“What?” her voice rose a level higher. “Not—not really. I mean, no. No, we’re not,” she attempted to finish on a strong note, but Vos caught on quickly.

“This is the worst possible time to be at odds with one another,” he whispered harshly. “I don’t know the specifics of what it means to be a wizard’s apprentice, but aren’t you supposed to be in congruent with him?”

“Excuse me!” Móni matched his whispered tone, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “I don’t need some rich snob who hides behind a powerful crime lord to elevate his status tell me how to apprentice.” She jabbed at his chest several times, pushing him back, “Don’t you have other things to worry about like not getting yourself choked to death?”

“Yes! And unfortunately, your hands are the ones I’ve placed my life in to keep _him_ from overreacting.”

“Then maybe you should have thought of a better alternative than this thing you’re having us attend **or** ,” she quirked a cocky smirk, “you bet your life on the wrong person. Makes no difference to me whether you live or die.”

“It makes a difference to your master.”

There was a quiver of uncertainty, Vos only betting on his invaluable input and resources to fuel Maul’s empire that kept him from getting Force choked on the other end of a transmission.

Móni hummed with a reluctant agreement but, in the corner of her eyes, caught a flash of gold piercing through the threshold’s shadows and directly at the two of them.

“Don’t turn around.”

Vos was about to do the exact opposite of what he was told, but she tugged hard at his elbow.

“I’ll try to smooth things out, alright? Also, Maul knows what’s at stake here so don’t underestimate him either. Stars knows how many times he’s surprised me with his hidden talents.”

She released him and made her way quickly across the bay and to a glowering form who had a rising snarl on his features.

“What were the two of you discussing?” Maul bared his teeth, ready to tear away at flesh.

“He has his concerns about me not behaving.”

There was a murderous glint when he made a quick look at Vos striding his way over, “You let him speak that way to you?”

“I—,” Móni faltered at her mistake, especially after their little conversation about her show of authority. “I mean is he wrong to be worried?”

“Yes,” he growled. “You are my apprentice, not an inept thug.”

Móni’s mouth fell open into an ‘oh’. The unwavering confidence he continued to have in her, after everything she put him through, was the last thing she would have expected; not even a warning to dial down the crass personality and japes. Not a hint of concern.

Maul lingered on Vos a few seconds before stalking off into the estate without awaiting a response.

 _Something is definitely off_.

He let it slip for a moment, but Móni was sure she sensed a fracture in the unwavering hate—an obscure stream of discord he was hardly privy to. She was usually the one with the flailing emotions, but it seemed Maul could be susceptible to them as well. The rarity was, however, a cause for concern and she wanted to pull at her scalp knowing exactly why it was so.

_I need to fix this. Somehow._

She hated to admit it, but Vos was right. This was the worst possible time.

The estate’s interior held soft shades of deep blue, gold, and rose in its décor and furnishings. There were many art installations of metal works that spread out like vines or branches in different patterns across the walls and shaping doorways. Many of the designs triggered images of Móni’s old home on Devaron.

“Dryden has some great taste,” Móni mused to the arkanian housemaid who led her through the expansive corridors, lit by natural sunlight from transparent panels.

The simple chromatic dress rippled around her legs when she walked, and her platinum locks were raised in a meticulous bun.

“It’s actually his sister’s work. As an architect, she’s a muse for the arts and biotech.”

They stopped before a rounded-top door with leaf designs in silver trimming.

_A home overgrown with vines and melded into its environment had a panel masked as a branch and a steel door anyone would be fooled into believing it to be a stone slab with swirls of intricate designs. But it slid open to a tall woman with her arms crossed and an elegantly raised brow in mock concern._

_“Móni, where have you been?”_

It did not slide open into a room she knew but one much too large for one person. Sunlight poured through the balcony gates and cascaded over a bed that could fit four bodies lavished with a cushioned spread and pillows encased in silk fabric. 

“This will be your room for the remainder of your stay,” the housemaid explained. “A personal handmaid will be here shortly to assist in dressing you for tonight.”

Móni awed at the size all meant for her but had one last thing to do before exploring every nook of the lavished abode.

 _And talking to Maul_.

“This is great and all, but I was wondering if you could take me to… Kyp!”

Hovering down the hall was Kyp with Qar-Tan at his side. The maid made a slight bow before making herself scarce.

“Is it just you two here?” Móni collapsed onto the bed and gasped at its softness.

“Nyla is back in the room,” Kyp said. “Zione and Shysha are completing a shipment request while we’re here.”

“It’s been great not having Zione hark at us,” Qar-Tan laid back beside Móni. “ _And_ it’s been great living in luxury. We don’t have to do anything all day!”

Kyp cleared his throat loudly, “While you lounge about, I’ve been working,” he illuminated a projection of data. “And I was able to scrounge up some info on your target.”

Unknown names scrolled past but Móni was distracted by a gloss sheen she knew hadn’t existed before.

“Did you get a new hoverchair?”

Kyp stopped to spin around the polish finish that gleamed as nicely as the palace.

“Nope. Just made some upgrades. Pretty nice, huh?”

“Very nice,” Móni matched her friend’s excitement and pressed against the seat’s padding. “They spared no expenses on you. The sister impressed with your work?”

“Pretty much,” Kyp said with modesty, his attention on the display.

“Does she know who Vos is involved with?”

“Not a clue,” he said. “Checked on that. Only that he’s worked with the crime syndicates, not partnered with one.”

“She’s scary,” Qar-Tan sat up. “That woman could kill with her heels.”

“Looking forward to meeting her,” Móni had a vague image of Vos’ eldest sibling from a datafile and recollecting that the family business’ power stemmed from her.

“Eezula expects some supporters of the Galactic Empire to slip in and report any information that could prove useful,” Kyp explained. “I’m supposed to keep track of any suspicious activity with them and get their names down. Then there are those who play as double agents—siding with the Empire but also sharing their profit with those who oppose it and feed false information.”

“Eezula?” Móni interrupted. “First name basis, I see.”

“She’s obsessed with him,” Qar-Tan waved a flippant hand. “Went as far to propose permanent employment.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Can we focus?” he switched displays to an old male rodian. “This is Count Soter Baelop. There is almost nothing on the guy. He went to a University on Naboo and attended the Interstellar Commercial Program then partnered with a bunch of moguls and corporate organizations, Vos’ father being amongst them. About fifteen years later, the career he built along with his status just… disappeared. I can’t find any records until the Clone Wars where it’s mentioned he was a Separatist supporter by funding shipbuilders, weapons manufacturers, and so on. Other than this information, he’s like a ghost.”

“Won’t be much of a ghost anymore once we get him to join us,” Móni stretched.

“Should we bring Maul in and tell him?” Kyp shut off the projection.

“I’ll tell him later,” she slid off the bed and circled around to the balcony to oversee the estate’s courtyard.

Kyp eased his way into her space to get her focus on him. “There isn’t really much time between now and the event.”

“Yes, I know,” her voice raised from the stress she bottled in for far too long.

“You haven’t spoken to him, have you?”

“We have… sort of,” Móni banged her forehead against the clear panel. “I made things worse. Again.”

Qar-Tan made an exaggerated groan of annoyance, “Kyp, didn’t you tell me that Maul—"

“So!” Kyp gave Qar-Tan a discreet glare meant to silence. “I’ll just transmit everything to him myself.”

“Works for me,” Móni meditated on the finely trimmed shrubberies, elegantly carved canopies, and twisting barks that shaped the area below.

The holoprojection of U’lis reaching toward Kyp and Nuit’s cries in the background resurfaced and Móni pulled away.

“You alright?” Kyp furrowed his thin eyebrows.

“Yeah,” she steadied her breaths and avoided eye contacted. “Tell me more about your stay here.”

 _Betts said it_ , Móni hated to admit it, _Keeping the truth for so long will have consequences._

But she wasn’t ready to face the truth of it herself. She couldn’t then and she couldn’t now. U’lis’ death.

Móni caught maybe a glimpse of herself in the tall mirror. What she snapped into memory was a blurred recollection of defined curls dotted with white gems, a face she hardly recognized, and a gray-blue gown that hugged her waist and hips. The nautolan handmaid assigned to her moved around in the background, organizing the overused clothes she wanted to shove back on, and utterly uninterested in her discomfort.

“Is there anything else you need, Ma’am?”

“No,” she strained. “Thanks.”

Once alone, Móni took a deep inhale into her tight lungs and exhaled.

“Alright. Be professional. You can be professional. You’re his apprentice so act like it,” she recalled the lightsaber she had hidden under a pillow. “This is important, and you can’t mess things up for him.”

She buried it all deep inside in the same way she had always done when things were normal between them.

 _“Normal”_ , Móni corrected. 

The heat of blood pumping fast in her veins ceased and she steeled her heart. Their setting was upscale and enchanting, but it was an illusion of the battlefield it masked. The people they were walking amongst held the galaxy in their hands and a wrong move could eliminate Crimson Veil with a whisper in the correct ear.

Móni went to clasp her lightsaber to her body but found no space to hide it in.

“Perfect...”

-

The moment he was taken into the temporary living space, Maul snuffed out every light that touched him and was comforted by the familiar void the darkness brought. He settled on the floor, not giving the costly furnishings any note of significance, and kneaded his anger to full force throughout body and mind.

Móni had become transparent with her feelings on their situation but he never suspected doubt to be one of them.

 _Regret_.

He wasn’t sure if he was proud of the fact she had taken his words to heart when he called out against her the unfortunate night. That she would ever consider regressing and give up on the whole ordeal. It was unlike her.

The connection was there, Maul saw, between the theelin called U’lis and the Mandalorian’s degrading her authority. Her confidence was wavering and, yet again, it was up to him to unravel the intricacies of her emotions. Only this time they were the center of it, and she was patiently awaiting his response.

A decision needed to be made and he was edging toward making one meant to silence their torments for good.

_‘Am I a weakness?’_

How many times had he repeated the question?

 _Had she become one_?

At the hour where Maul felt a rather sizeable gathering of life forms in the estate, he finally rose and readied himself for the ultimate inconvenience of his life. He slipped on the final article of clothing when his skin prickled at erratic energy outside. Recognizing in an instant who it was, he was reluctant to make contact but gave a fierce tug of determination on the cloak and went for the door panel.

Maul considered everything when he decided on the apprentice joining him: over excitement, humor that could teeter on the offensive if she didn’t watch her mouth, befriending the target while also making ambiguous promises that would either please or upset him and, lastly, getting distracted. But never in a thousand lifetimes would he have taken into consideration the largest oversight he had ever made.

He didn’t recognize Móni when he took her in all at once, but when her sunset hues met him the impenetrable fortress nearly shattered. His finger pushed harder against the door panel wishing he found the resolve to select it again and close out the softly painted features and dark coils that glittered like space.

“Can I come in for a minute?”

The answer he wanted to give burned the tip of his tongue but when her lashes fluttered in question and her bare shoulders rolled when she shifted her weight Maul was choked by his own failings and stepped aside for her.

“Why’s it so dark in here?”

Her heels tapped the smooth floor to the panel that controlled the balcony’s shutters. She opened a slit of orange light into the room that encapsulated her form with dancing dust particles and made the threads of her gown shine. Maul never struck himself as a being of taste, only someone with an eye for practicality, but an exception may have been made that one time. From the weaved rendition of vines that shaped her bodice with an open neckline and scarcely covered the skin, to the cinched waistline, and the open slit starting midthigh, he was no longer looking at an apprentice.

He would have been taken out of his depths with a shattered resolve if Maul hadn’t sensed a shift in her emotions. They were tucked away and barred with an iron-will he should have been impressed by, but instead found himself disappointed to not be greeted with a soft caress.

Móni peeked her face through the slit she made and scanned the area below, “You can see the guests coming in.”

Maul shifted by her side, catching a different scent—floral—from her, and shared the view of distinguished people striding into the estate with upturned noses or twitching tendrils. What he saw was a legion of inferior beings who would one day be seized from the Empire and into his clutches to expand his underworld that would one day engulf the galaxy.

“Kyp sent you an update on Count Baelop?”

She knew what the response was, but Maul read past the façade meant to prepare herself for the real reason she was there. Her blocking emotions and firm line on her full lips was enough indication to give him a small window of what to expect.

“Yes,” Maul didn’t recognize the voice that came out. Too soft and considerate.

“He said we should still be careful with double agents who may approach us.”

“I am aware.”

“And that zygerrian slaver, Reesta D’Veen, will be here. She’s probably super agitated at the Black Suns for taking more gigorans than her. Best we just try to avoid her if we can.”

“She is of little consequence.” Somewhat intrigued by the slight paranoia, he took a jab to maybe incite a reaction, “Is the apprentice nervous?”

Móni chuckled, dry and lifeless, “I’ve dealt with these types for years when I lived on Coruscant. They’re just people with bigger secrets and pockets. What about you?”

A fog of faded imagery with chattering groups of senators and Master amongst them while he lied in wait in the shadows to eliminate the assigned target.

“I have attended enough of these formal events from a distance to know the customs and what is deemed appropriate.”

“As an assassin.”

“Yes, as Master’s weapon,” he rumbled with a hint of warning at her wariness.

“You do know you can’t threaten someone with Force chokes or challenge people to Mandalorian combat here. Well, maybe to a game of sabacc.”

He hummed his disappointment from the chest, “A pity.”

Another chuckle, but this time the whites of her teeth showed when she smiled briefly. It wasn’t enough to fill him with life the way the sound used to and because she returned to a frown.

Her composure fell and her eyes darted between the balcony and floor, finding a solution to the unseen struggles happening in her head.

“What is it, Móni?”

Either he lacked the oxygen to speak clearly with demand or he lost his mind because he didn’t know where the patience and compassion came from. But the longer he stared at the small details he missed, like the powdered blush on her cheeks and the newly discovered beauty mark above her collar bone, he grimaced at the potential reason.

“The last thing I want to be is a burden or distraction,” she gripped the fabric of her gown and faced him fully—eyes bright with determination, “I want to be your apprentice and your strength. That’s what matters to me. More than anything.”

Her distress and self-hate permeated the atmosphere, latching onto the Force and pressing against him, and he didn’t resist them.

Maul absorbed her feelings, melding them into himself in the hopes of understanding what it all meant. She was fighting herself, beating herself down until there was little of herself left to give. The consequences of his actions. Of making her wait. But she pulled on the guise of invulnerability before him, taking on the mantle of his apprentice and what he asked of her.

Maul turned far as he could away from her face to make the sting more bearable and faltered from the immense amount of volition to turn his turmoil into reality.

“You have proven your strength and worth beyond what was asked of you. I am proud to call you my apprentice and to have you by my side, even now,” he drifted.

 _Especially now_ , when it sometimes felt the galaxy was set against him.

He straightened his spine and unclasped his hands from behind his back to look upon her without the fear and torment that plagued him since their first meeting. Maul wasn’t sure who was standing before her, but the weight of Sith, master, and crime lord fell away, and he had never looked upon the world with such clarity before.

“My trust in you is immense and well placed. It is not a weakness.”

The seams she sewed shut broke from the warmth of her energy bursting through the dark clouds and caressing his own with such familiarity Maul practically embraced it. Móni wasn’t in full recovery, the smile and laughter still missing, but by the suns and moons, it was enough.

She expelled a small laugh, shy and nervous, and contained her explosive emotions to a soft hush, “So, not Vos? The two of you have been getting awfully close.”

Maul scoffed, “Hardly. He believes he is being clever by withholding some private contacts from me for his own business ventures.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” She shut the balcony closed and smacked her lips, “Um.”

The sound. The _tone_. Maul prepared for the worst and gave her his attention, a sneer already in place.

“Yes?”

“Speaking of trust, there is something I should tell you,” she winced.

He shined his gold irises at Móni, their glare louder than any words he could muster.

“Strictly for the sake of appearances and because the role of my alias was stuck in oblivion, Vos and I took it upon ourselves to change that.”

“Changed what?” he snapped.

“I’m not your apprentice. We’re a couple.”

There was a loud ringing in his ears and the rage he stifled the area with only made the _apprentice_ stare at him in amusement, furthering his irritation.

“If I had your power, I would level the entire estate and be done with it!”

“Listen,” she soothed. “It really isn’t that big of a deal. The only thing that changes is you can’t refer to me as ‘apprentice’ or ‘woman’. Otherwise, no one will know the difference.”

Her cool behavior stroked the blazing inferno into a simple flame and Maul’s breaths returned to their natural tempo.

“Durmónia,” he said in a low and threatening growl, “you went behind my back about this, why?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t react well to it,” she gestured at him to prove her point. “And I think Vos made the right call. It’s the easiest cover without any need for an explanation.”

His nostril twitched with aggravation, “This could create further complications.”

“How?” she jutted her chin in defiance.

“If we are questioned separately our stories would not align.”

“What stories?” She counted on her fingers the events of their life, “We met on a broken lift. We didn’t like each other, but you kept being pushy and eventually I started to like you and agreed to work for your business full-time. Several trips later, we’re…” She drifted to a stop, then picked up quickly, “Then that’s it.”

Maul processed the simplistic narrative of exactly what transpired between them and how far their journey together had taken them.

“Well?” she pressed at him for being silent too long.

He scowled and turned away fast to make for the exit, “Do not make me regret not ending you where you stand.”

“Just me? What about Vos?”

“Especially Vos.”

“I’m okay with that then.”

When Móni stopped at the threshold, Maul rolled his eyes toward the heavens.

“One last thing,” she held out her lightsaber. “Hold this for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	5. Stars

Within a circular office with hanging lights that sparkled like stars beneath a tiled ceiling was a near-human woman who stood erect before a bulbous window that took the entire wall’s face. Beyond the transparent pane was a sea of rose rolling beneath the vernal equinox winds and the woman recalled a time when her brother and sister were once friends and tossed themselves in the lush grass on those sorts of days. As they grew, they learned to grow apart when their differences and morals never reached one another. Raised without a mother and a father who did little to earn their affections, as the eldest she took it upon herself to groom them into the best players of the nefarious society they lived in. Not only were they capable of looking after themselves but they also served their purpose in following her demands like the good little siblings they were.

On cue, the door slid open.

“Why don’t you have any furniture in here?” Dryden Vos strode in already in a hurry to leave.

“Every time you come in here you always mention the furniture.”

“Really? When was the last time I came in here, Eezula?”

“Two years ago. Before then, four years ago.”

“Pardon me for forgetting these past few years,” he said without any sincerity. “I assume you’ve told me why every time?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me again.”

“Because I don’t want people to be comfortable when they speak to me. They can stand and make the conversation short.”

“What if I sit on the floor…?” He dipped his knees ready to do it.

Eezula whipped her head at him, blonde hair stylized at the top with shaved sides. “Do not put your sweaty bottom on my polished stone flooring.”

Dryden put his hands up, not really caring about needing to sit. “So. Why am I here after two years?”

A datacard was tossed his way which Dryden half inspected, “What is this?”

“Information on our baby sister’s husband,” malice spiked in her voice.

“Xile? I don’t understand.”

“He’s been snooping into our data banks, specifically into our guest list for this event,” a cold shiver ran down Dryden’s spine at her cool stare. “Did you know he’s been conspiring with the Empire?”

“If he has been,” he did not allow Eezula push her superiority on him, the way she always did since they were children, “it must have been a recent development.”

“I doubt that,” she pointed at the datacard in his hand. “He’s been supplying labor to Imperial projects that are nearly impossible to access. Eylanis knows little of it too. It has something to do with stones or crystals.”

“And why are you interested in Imperial projects?”

Eezula smiled, a trait that raised bumps on Dryden’s skin.

“Oh no! You are not involving your team of sympathizers or whatever they call themselves. This is an important time—"

“For you.”

“Yes, for me!” he gasped in offense. “We’re not turning this into an Imperial spy party. What if things get out of hand? We’d lose all of our support.”

“Dryden,” she cooed, dragging a long nail across the table’s surface.

“I am not helping you.”

“Not even for your sister?”

He scoffed with disgust, “No.”

“What if I do something for you?”

Dryden was sorely against the risks involved with his sister’s silent war against the Empire, but he wouldn’t pass an opportunity of her offering something to him.

“Go on,” he already regretted.

“I won’t tell our friends and allies you’re the crime families’ dog.”

“Are you threatening me? Really? We’re practically on the same side.”

The hanging, silver earring glinted as harshly as her steel gaze, “We are not on the same side. The only thing you care about is if there’s enough room in the galaxy to play with your toys.”

“Not toys. Antiquities,” he stressed. “We all want a space to play our little games. It’s what all those people you’ve invited are here for. The Empire has taken too much control over our businesses, forcing us to manufacture large percentages of our products to an expansion no one cares about. Now we’re required to hang the horrendous design of the Imperial mark on our doorsteps.”

“You forget your place, brother,” she sliced through Dryden’s proud airs. “If it weren’t for me you wouldn’t have the means to do anything with your sorry self. Remember this,” she circled around the desk, exhibiting her gold sequin bodysuit topped by a white, floor-length coat with golden epaulettes, “I control these games and the Empire can send all the little spies they want for they will all be deserving a fine awakening from thinking they can undermine me.”

Dryden had his hand cover half the emotions on his face. It was a battle between outrage and utter astonishment at the uncontrollable personalities he was surrounded by. The only spot of sanity he found to cooperate with Eezula was he would have some inkling of what her plans were and how he could avoid them to make way for his own.

 _Insane_ , he referred to his lord and the apprentice, and his sister, _all of them_!

“What do you need of me?”

“Find out what Xile Mox is hiding. Then kill him when we have the information we need.”

He dropped his arm with such a weight Dryden didn’t have the strength anymore to hold it up, “And where would you like me to do it? Centerstage for everyone to see?”

Eezula shrugged slightly, indifference set in her perfectly angled features, “It would make a good show.”

Dryden huffed with distaste at the joke he knew she was half-serious about, “Fine. But what about Eylanis?”

“What about her?”

“He is her husband,” he said with annoyance at needing to explain.

Her smooth and perfectly painted face crinkled with a detestation that had Dryden take a step back.

“By our father’s severed head you’re stupid! Get out of my sight,” she spoke through closed teeth.

More than happy to be done with her, Dryden spun on his heel and left the room without a second thought.

Eezula tapped a nail on the desk, conspiring and contemplating before sending a transmission and illuminating a projection of an Inquisitor with a uniquely shaped helm to cover the horns protruding out the sides of his head; her only indication he was a non-human.

“Dryden hasn’t a clue about the Empire’s involvement. You and Xile have the all-clear.”

“ **Is she here**?”

She worked her jaw and did not fear to express her utter abhorrence for the Imperial, “Are you upholding our deal? The Empire will not touch me or any of my assets.”

He was silent and although she could not see the face under the black helmet she felt the intensity of his stare, as if he was possibly able to read every plan she had in place to crush her enemies; backstabbing anyone who stood in her way including the Inquisitor, including Xile, including her siblings. She didn’t know what the male was capable of or what his ranking within the Imperial military was, but the shiver down her spine and perspiring back were instincts that before him, she was not the one in power. An example of the Empire’s might but she would not lose her place and no Emperor would ever rise above her.

“ **Yes.** ”

The authenticity of his sincerity was nonexistent and Eezula detested what little options she had but to play his way and already vying for his death.

“She’s here.”

The connection was severed instantly.

“Didn’t wait long enough for me to say she came along with an unknown,” she laughed. “Serves him right."

-

Móni stopped beneath the towering doorway and took in a deep breath before submerging herself in the music and loud voices. At the top of the stairs, her breath was taken away by the ballroom’s grandeur and beauty. The flooring and staircase were made of mirrors that reflected prism light from the high, vaulting transparent ceiling and clerestory. Bright and colorful plant life from different planets decorated the black metal railings around the room, their vines extended down the pointed arches and pillars supporting the surrounding floor levels. Hanging upside down from the center of the ceiling was an enormous geometric flower made of crystal in a fantastical array of colors that moved with a life of its own.

Maul, however, skimmed the crowd below and immediately made descent; not giving the grandeur of the place any of his attention. His fierce focus was set on the first victim and an eagerness to move fast against them. Móni wanted to slow him down, under the impression he was going to charge head-on into a group of beings without proper introductions, but he veered toward someone familiar who didn’t look all that different from how he usually presented himself, except his fair skin turned a shade lighter upon meeting Maul's stomping trajectory towards him.

He excused himself with a courteous smile to a cerean then put the small bit of courage he had into his spine.

“My lord,” Vos’ grin came out strained and tight. “Perhaps we could discuss this another—”

Maul came up quickly to his side, aware of the people and their eyes on them, then whispered harshly under his breath.

“Walk.”

Móni bit back on a smirk and followed alongside them, keeping a close ear to the threats.

“The next time you make a decision behind my back will be the last one you will ever make.”

Vos pressed his lips so tight together they turned white, “Understood, my lord.”

When Maul took a few steps ahead of them to quell his rage, Móni leaned back.

“If it makes you feel better, I got yelled at as well.”

“It doesn’t.”

There was a disquiet swirling inside him, and it wasn’t directly at Maul but erratically pointed in several directions. Before she could rectify her concerns, he was quick to fall in step with his lord and offered guidance.

“We need to find Count Baelop. I’ve already heard he’s in the area.”

She took a step to follow but was halted by the Force ringing in her ears; not the voices, but its presence that lingered about between the breaths of life and death of every being. She followed the source, scanning over the finely dressed bodies who stood in mass, laughing, drinking, smoking. Lost in the Force’s realm, the music turned off, and didn’t realize she was stepping into someone else’s path.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!”

A young woman with strawberry blonde hair cascading over a porcelain shoulder patted down her dark blue gown with beautifully sewn designs of white florals and shook her hand of the remaining droplets of her spilled drink.

“Did any get on you?”

“No, don’t think so,” Móni was startled from being pulled abruptly back to reality and looked closely at the woman with faded markings running down her blushing face.

 _Not her_ , she deduced nothing out of the ordinary other than a sudden flux of emotions.

Her blue eyes sparkled when they stared up at Móni with a slack jaw then quickly resumed her pleasantries, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. A new friend of my sister’s?”

“Sister?”

“Eylanis!”

The woman reacted immediately to the name and her bright expression dimmed.

“Hello, Dryden.”

“Have you seen Baelop?” he was quick to ask.

As they conversed Móni stepped right beside Maul whose face was shadowed by an awful glower directed at Vos.

“He is up to something.”

“I sensed it too,” she confirmed. “He’s way too stressed under his own roof. Could be a personal issue.”

He growled, “Doubtful.”

Móni hummed her slight agreement and caught Maul sending pointed glares at anyone who walked past, especially those who gave quizzical looks. She knew any attempt to smooth his unease would backfire, agitating him further.

She lingered a bit on Maul’s form wearing the high collared cape coat and neck corset that only dignified his posture further, and a doublet that fit snuggly around the torso but left a dipping slit to expose some of the tattoos on his chest. Móni had seen him without clothes before, however, not when he was in full health and it made every bit of difference.

She gulped back the attraction, locking it down, and he noticed the unnerving sincerity in her stare too late.

“You look good by the way. Very handsome.”

As expected, his attention left the crowd and focused solely on her. He blinked first without comprehension, then confusion, and when it suddenly dawned on him what she said he puffed his chest and directed his focus away. Of course, anger was the first reaction, and Móni couldn't help but laugh.

“It’s a compliment, not an insult.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he said under his breath.

She huffed with exasperation, but could not resist to let the smirk linger, “You don’t have to believe me. But it’s true.”

Maul was quick to avoid her eyes when he met them, then bared his teeth in a snarl with the intent to bite back with harsh words but was interrupted.

“Eylanis will take us to him,” Vos approached them with Eylanis dipping into a small curtsey behind him.

She led them to the corner of the grand room where a staircase spiraled up a pillar overgrown with flora. The stairs moved in opposite directions alongside the other and were lit in a silver hue. The ascent was gradual to reach the high ceiling and Eylanis spun at Móni.

“We were never introduced,” she slid a detestable glare at her brother but held her polite smile. “I am Eylanis Vos. The youngest sibling.”

“I’m Zahri and this is—”

“Zahri?” Eylanis interrupted. “Not a common name. Think I may have heard it before.”

Móni sucked in a breath, shocked at the name to have been recognized.

“This is my partner, Executive Opress,” she used Maul to deflect and Eylanis took the bait.

“Oh, yes?” she said with mild interest. “Doesn’t speak much.”

Vos was instantly sensitive to Maul’s rising sneer.

“Quiet, Eylanis,” he hissed rudely like she was his biggest nuisance.

“Are they _your_ friends?” she continued, hardly insulted. “I’m impressed you found one who’s so pretty,” she chirped toward Móni.

Móni politely engaged with her, “Thank you. Your dress is really stunning. It flatters you.”

Eylanis’ fair skin showed pigments of blush but was tugged at the arm by Vos who mumbled words only she could hear.

A cold heat traced down the side of her face and arm. Móni met a golden stare she had no memory of ever holding such emotion and reacted on impulse.

“What?”

Maul’s face was a stone exterior where the only movement he gave was his eyes darting forward.

 _Strange_ , he was usually burning the atmosphere with his anger but instead, it was strangely cool and uncomfortable.

“I don’t have to show you to Count Baelop,” Eylanis yanked her arm back. “He’s under security and you’re lucky he likes me.”

Móni shared a quick glance of concern with Maul and spoke under her breath, “That’s not a good sign.”

“He is being targeted,” Maul agreed. “By whom, I wonder?”

“By the time we find out he could already be dead.”

He growled in affirmation and the impatience that wasn’t obvious before expanded and touched her senses. Móni exhaled softly, unconcerned with Maul’s usual dramatic flex of emotions and amused by Vos’ intense paranoia every time he glanced over his shoulder.

 _Things are going better than expected_ , but the tingling under her skin and silent vibrations in the air told her otherwise.

“Oh look,” Eylanis stepped off the staircase at the highest floor and moved after someone down the carpeted hall. “It’s Chezie!”

“Get back—” Vos took a sharp inhale and held his breath when he faced the two of them. “One moment.”

Móni arched a brow, “Let’s explore while we wait. Shouldn’t be too hard to find someone surrounded by security.”

A droid passed carrying trays of bite-sized morsels of fruit topped with crumbled cheese and a delicate roll of fish that raised her appetite.

 _Not now_ , she groaned internally at the missed opportunity to prey on the privileges of attending a formal event. 

However, she was stopped by the food-item displayed before her face.

"When did you?" Móni faded when Maul refused to make eye contact and instead took the delicate item from his fingers. "Thanks."

She stuffed it into her mouth and absorbed what flavors she could distinguish before completing her review:

"It's okay."

It rumbled out softly and under his breath, but Maul's chuckle was all she heard in the cacophony of over a hundred beings speaking over each other at once--bringing heat to her face. 

"Can you do better?"

"Who do you take me for? Of course, I can!"

The rise in his smile vanished when the incisive ring muffed the natural sounds around her. Her senses amplified and narrowed onto a source not far from where they stood; encompassed by several beings.

“This way,” she followed the silent threads that linked the Force to life, drawn by a familiar bond she had no notion of ever having.

“Móni,” Maul whispered in alarm and gently wrapped a leathered bound hand around her wrist.

She snapped out of her daze; the connection lost.

“What is it?” she spoke, slightly annoyed to have been interrupted.

Maul grimaced at the tone but rather than address the matter he motioned his head toward a rotund entryway guarded by two human males in simple black garbs and blasters in hand.

“They’re probably bounty hunters,” Móni wasn’t worried. “Could probably get past with a lie or two.”

He was, however, unconvinced, “Their blaster rifles are Imperial grade and they are too disciplined to be bounty hunters.”

“Most likely stolen. You can get those off the black market easy too. I think it’s fine.”

But as she spoke Maul was already studying their location, eyes moving fast along the decorated walls, transparent ceiling, and closed entrances until his gaze sharpened at an open courtyard.

His connection was taken away when he slid his hand off her skin and there was a sense of loss upon its removal.

“Why hello! I don’t think I know who you are.”

A female’s voice halted them from continuing and were greeted by a tall, blonde human with a nasty twinkle in her eyes when she leered down at them with a smile that hid many secrets.

But the woman wasn’t completely unrecognizable, for she had the same facial markings as her siblings.

“Are you Eezula?” Móni grew a grin. “We’ve heard a lot about you. We’re friends of your brother.”

“Oh, yes,” she tapped the crystal cup with a painted nail to fill in the long pause of her scrutiny. “You did appear on my list as my brother’s guests. Tell me, how did he encounter such a handsome couple?”

“I assisted in salvaging a stolen ship of his drifting in Wild Space,” Maul held down the irritation to the back of his throat, “We trade information and deal in small partnerships.”

Eezula raised her perfectly thinned eyebrows in feigned amusement, “Fascinating. Did he tell you to say that?”

Móni wanted to scoff at her face or shake the cup in her hand with a little Force push to put at least a single wrinkle on her smooth features.

“Not exactly, but he did prepare us for when you decided to pick on his associates.”

Her face fell in mild shock then went into a burst of explosive laughter.

“My, my. I am impressed,” red lips stretched into a wicked grin as if she had discovered something truly entertaining. “I can see why he affiliates with you. You have the guts he lacks.”

“To stand up to you? I can’t imagine why he struggles. Aren’t you two the same height?”

The laughter dipped into the frown Móni aimed for, and clearly unimpressed--all respect for either of them dashed--Eezula’s nature cracked through the lines finally forming around her nose and between her brow.

“I hope whatever Dryden finds appealing in the two of you is worth it because I usually meet disrespect with consequences.”

“Don’t hold back on the account of us being your guests,” Móni couldn’t help but enjoy herself in a bout against another Vos, and one who was particularly sensitive about their status and birthright. “I wouldn’t dare stop you.”

There was a strange quirk in Eezula’s eyes with a notion of knowing something Móni should be aware of.

“There’s no need.”

Móni wouldn’t say she was beaten into silence, but the deceit she expected intensified into truth and the Force’s gravity weighed more with the impending course of events she had no control of.

Before she could fire back, her blood roaring to defeat the tall woman, Maul stepped forward with a rage that outmatched hers; only better contained.

“The same consequences you showed your father and sloppily covered up?” he scanned the crowded area until he landed back on her with victorious airs. “I wonder if any of your supporters know the truth of the story.”

The gradual disappearance of Eezula’s chivalrous mask altered into the raw skin of scorn, “How does someone like you know so much of our history?” a glint of curiosity sparked her vision. “Who are you?”

“An ally,” Maul said simply. “Or an enemy.”

Eezula huffed a dry chuckle and Móni sensed it as easily as one could feel the rapid change in temperature on one’s flesh. The violence. And Maul reflected her just as fast, delight filling his lips at the challenge.

 _Uh oh_ , Móni searched her brain fast for a solution to douse the flames she may or may not have been the cause of.

She sucked in a breath, hating herself for breaking the promise she made to herself. Móni stilled her heart, turned her blood to ice, then raised her hands. She looped her arm under his, her hand sliding over the grooves and silver patterns that adorned the sleeve and pressed against his side. A quiet sigh passed her lips at his body so near and the comfort it gave her. There was an ache in her chest when she stuffed the bliss deeper into their confines and not be released in full force.

Maul’s emotions silenced and the atmosphere only contained Eezula’s anger.

“We’re going to get some fresh air,” Móni smiled pleasantly. “Let’s continue the conversation with cooler heads later.”

Not against the idea, Eezula returned with the mask of decency and spoke through tight lips, “I will be looking for you.”

Thankful for the temporary truce, Móni guided Maul toward the courtyard they had initially planned on venturing toward and released her hold.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Panicked for a second.”

He said nothing. Expressed nothing. And her heart sank past the stomach and to her feet, and she wished to be consumed by an endless void where she could never hear it beat again.

The new area wasn’t crowded, the noise level to a minimum while many guests stood in small groups under open space. Maul was quick to assess his surroundings and made his way to the furthest side of the courtyard where there were walls joined inward in a right angle and led to the rooftop.

Móni checked the guests who were out of range to notice the two of them nestled in a discreet and ill-lit area.

“You go. I’ll stay behind and handle the monster woman so she won’t get suspicious.”

When she went to meet him, Maul had already been staring with a forlorn quality in his not so rigid posture and loose hands. Unsure of what to make of it or the glum emotion that swirled clumsily with the anger and hate, she stepped near him—his gaze never leaving her.

“We don’t really have much time,” she pressed gently.

“They match,” he said fast and breathless.

“What matches?” she searched their vicinity for any clues of what he meant.

Maul breathed in and out, whatever it was he wanted to say being processed and examined.

“The night sky,” he looked up with her at the twinkling expanse above, then returned, “and your locks.”

Móni made a hesitant touch at her hair, unsure if she heard right. But pools of gold latched onto her longer than she expected, the tightness around them smoothed and the lines of fury no longer marring his crimson skin. A kind touch stroked her senses, filling her chest with the attention and adoration she hadn’t felt since…

Maul severed the connection. Reversing the flow of his emotions to himself—locked and gone—before scaling the walls with Force jumps and disappearing at the roof.

She took a handful of curls and covered her mouth to hide the confusion and disbelief.

 _It makes no sense_ , or did it make perfect sense? _What did he say?_ She kept repeating his words over and over to the point she wasn’t sure if they came from a dream or reality. _Did he say I was...?_ He was being nice. Wanted to make her feel better after the stunt she pulled on him. _He doesn’t do ‘nice’, though._ Maul was honest with her. Even when it hurt.

“There you are!”

Dryden jogged up to her with Eylanis leisurely following.

Irate from the spell being broken, Móni snapped at the man, “What do you want?”

“Where’s Lord Mau—I mean Lord Opress?”

“Lord?” Eylanis swirled to Móni’s side. “Who’s your lord?”

“No one,” Dryden bit back quickly.

“He went to deal with it himself,” Móni spoke with nonchalance. “So, you should probably meet him there.”

He opened his mouth and could not find which question out of the hundreds he wanted to ask first until he finally settled on none and faced his back to her. Then turned back with a scolding finger and a rise in his temper Móni was impressed at.

“Did you, perhaps, have a conversation with Eezula?”

“Oh!” Eylanis clapped with glee and eyed Móni with a deep intensity of approval. “She was _mad_.”

“That was probably us,” Móni didn’t deny.

“When I said to refrain from offending anyone, I meant _anyone_. Especially my sister.”

“To be fair, it wasn’t me this time. At least, not entirely.”

His hands went for his scalp, “What’s the point of having you here if you can’t even do your part?”

“I think you misunderstood us,” she leaned in. “I don’t control him. And he doesn’t control me.”

He shook his hands from having to do with either of them anymore or trying to comprehend their relationship, then sped away to go after his lord.

“Not going with him?” Eylanis hummed with excitement.

“No,” Móni was amused at the young woman’s closeness and display of a sordid hunger meant to lure her in. “I’m actually going to go find Eezula. Smooth out our heated discussion. Did you want to come with?”

Eylanis crinkled her nose at the name, “No, thanks.”

“Alright then,” she smiled and stalked off ahead.

“Come find me when you’re done,” Eylanis purred close to Móni’s ear that made the hairs of her skin rise from the subtle inflection of a desire that resided much deeper than what appeared on the surface.

Móni watched the receding back of the woman purposely swaying her hips to where Count Baelop was being held.

_Weird family._

-

There were many eyes that lingered too long. Some of curiosity, yes, but Maul felt the notes of suspicion tangled in their line of sight when they moved past. He had no doubts against the theelin boy to block outgoing transmissions from any Imperial spies he was certain were in the area, but the lies they whispered fogged the court’s brilliance and their rising fears strung the Force’s chords—a sound he embraced like his salvation—to not create a misstep for they were few in numbers compared to those who were against the Empire in the closed environment.

Móni picked up on the traces of the Force’s hand, much more than he could ever hope to feel. The sharp stillness of her body and the brightening of her eyes as she scanned the area like a creature on the hunt made him wonder if she had a sense of what was to come. Because his fingers twitched for the retrieval of his lightsaber and muscles tensed at an unknown enemy that hung over them waiting to swallow them whole.

It was pure speculation, but if the apprentice was feeling it from Vos and her surroundings, then it was vital for him to be on guard… if she would allow it.

Time and time again Móni was notorious for breaking down his defenses, but to do so while being surrounded by potential enemies was the last thing he needed. Especially if her jabs were unexpected. Unnecessary. Flattering.

 _She was not serious._ Her hooded gaze and stable energy that did not shift with any deceit told Maul otherwise. His body burned and he ignited the sparks of rage to overcome the embarrassment, but no matter how much of the Dark Side he summoned it was impossible to snuff the soft trembles of surprise.

And she said it so plainly, in the same way the youngest Vos spoke so easily to her.

Eylanis Vos swept a piercing glance in his direction, one with the intention to have him removed in some capacity. Maul hardly noticed the challenge while he reflected on her base description of Móni.

His body went cold. Fingers numb. Maul had suffered and been beaten from many battles concerning glowing umber, large smiles, and calloused hands that could crush in a single grip. Denial was the first tool of offense, then suppression. If none of those worked, meditating on its obliteration was the final step. But it always came back. Stronger.

 _Pretty_ , a mundane and simple term, and not enough to describe what he saw beside him. That night she was many things, but he couldn’t identify which was the alias, the apprentice, or the woman. And any one of those three could have been the one who took his arm and pressed their body to his side, creating more confusion. Yet, Maul did not growl for release or broke free from the hold. He soaked in her warmth that soothed out the violence in his muscles and enveloped his form in her sun-bright energy. It was when she released him, leaving him cold and alone, did he feel the subtleties of her shame and knew who it was who held him.

Finally, out in the quiet without so many bodies Maul was immediately stricken with the familiarity of the black vastness above, but the woman carried the stars on her person better than any planet’s evening sky.

As Móni searched the area for his escape he asked himself an important question for the first time:

_Why me?_

She greeted him once again with the sunset in her eyes, drawing him in.

_Why her?_

The dark mist of his fears parted and what he had contained for these years and months shone through. It wasn’t anything he had expected, the exhilaration that came with a tight chest and weightlessness. His fondness for her.

For the briefest moment, Maul made a dangerous wish to not have been impeded by a critical mission, but it also brought a stark reminder of his purpose and focus. He regressed into the shadow’s empty embrace and forced himself away from her presence.

Ready to continue their mission and leave the cursed estate with the crazed sisters for good, Maul raced through the silence and cool winds, stepping only on the beams that held the transparent panels to mask his presence from the crowds beneath him. He stopped over an awning that stretched out over a balcony and matched the general location of the count’s chambers, then leaped down before a transparent door decorated with swirls of color.

The interior was dark with no sense of life and he stretched a hand to feel through the Force for the door’s panel. But his commlink blinked bright on his wrist.

“ **I’ll open it for you** ,” the theelin child spoke and unlocked the automatic door.

Maul slipped inside and could hear a murmur of voices from another room.

“ **Sorry about the guard situation** ,” he continued. “ **Was a last minute thing and I couldn’t contact you without Eezula wondering why I was making a transmission to someone other than her**.”

“Do you know if they are stormtroopers or bounty hunters?” Maul wondered at the strange development of a mere count being monitored.

“ **No**. **I don’t have eyes outside the estate grounds so they must have landed their ship some ways away** ,” he paused. “ **Everyone is focused on Vos and Eylanis. Now’s your chance to slip in.** ”

The automatic door unlocked for him to step into the bright room and Vos was the center of everyone’s attention.

“What a pleasure to see you, Count Baelop,” he put on a persona Maul had never seen. A lot of smiles and a confidence that could have many people fooled. “How long has it been? Four? Five years?”

“I had hoped it would be longer,” a rodian coughed with age degrading his lungs. In his company was a being Maul recognized to be the zygerrian slaver, Reesta D’veen.

“Come, Count,” Vos put a friendly arm around Baelop. “The Vos family and you have been partners for decades. Are we really going to let a minor mishap define our relationship?”

“If you could bring back the load of ancient artifacts you so carelessly _lost_ somewhere in deep space, then, no, I’m afraid not,” he shrugged the arm off his shoulder. “Now your sister told me she wasn’t going to meet with me until later so why are you here?”

“Came to say hello,” Eylanis chirped in. “We haven’t seen you in person for so long. I was beginning to forget how you looked like.”

The count chuckled with good humor, “Oh, my dear. I’m hoping this would be my last in-person meeting. Getting too old for these gatherings, especially the ones Eezula throws.”

“Nonsense,” Reesta displayed her sharpened fangs in a grin. “You can’t leave me alone with these new and greedy pups who think they could control any section of the galaxy they please. I would miss you terribly.”

“You mean you like to pick my brains for old secrets,” Baelop was not persuaded by the feline’s purrs and sharp nails. “I’m afraid I have no secrets left to give.”

Vos attempted to whisper something in Eylanis’ ear but she jabbed his side with an elbow.

“We’re actually here of our own account,” she explained. “Private matter.”

“Private?” he spoke with skepticism. “What are you two conspiring now?”

“It would only take just a few moments of your time,” Vos stepped in.

“If it’s something that concerns you then I’m not doing it.”

“Uh, no,” Vos flashed a glance at Maul who was relaxing in a recline against the wall, waiting patiently to have the area cleared with just him and the count. “For an associate of mine. He’s very interested in what you could possibly offer him.”

“Any associate of yours is no associate of mine,” he grumbled, turning away to lock his greying and bulbous eyes onto the cloaked figure standing quietly in the far corner of the room. Baelop pointed, ready to shout but Vos was quick to extinguish the situation before it got heated.

“There he is!” he strolled inside and raised an arm with the intention to display some sort of brotherly comradery but went for a light pat on the shoulder instead when he received a violent memo from glaring eyes.

Vos chuckled out his wound up nerves, “Must have slipped in when none of you were looking.”

“I have absolutely no recollection of him entering in here,” Baelop was quick to counter, his defenses high and edging toward the guards.

Maul was ready to pull him back with the Force, but Eylanis grabbed the feeble rodian’s shoulders.

“Your memory must be aging as fast as your sight,” she pushed him lightly into the center, a coy grin plastered on her face.

“I’m old, not senile,” he stepped out of her grasp and narrowed his suspicion on her then Vos. “What’s going on? What do you want?”

“As Vos explained before,” Maul shortened the distance between him and the count, “I am the one who seeks answers.”

It started small, the dread that overcame him. Baelop shook his head with denial then moved away when realization brightened the milky orbs with clarity.

“I know what you are,” he whispered with panic. “Are you here to kill me?”

“That depends on you,” Maul shoved aside the concerns of his identity being known and was only thankful that it was enough to make the count cooperate.

“ _I_ know what you are,” Reesta waved off the death threats, not unfamiliar with them in her line of work. Her lithe form eased up beside Maul and he did not hide the detestation of her scent and proximity.

“You’re a Nightbrother.”

“I am more than that, slaver,” he clenched his fists tight to keep from crushing her head with the Force. “And you will know my meaning soon enough if you do not step back.”

“Madame D’veen,” Vos tried to edge her away. “I don’t think you should be patronizing someone you don’t know.”

“Oh no continue,” Eylanis was positively ecstatic at the tension. “I want to see what he does.”

Reesta’s feline ears twitched with indifference at the chittering around her. She followed Maul’s warning to only a certain degree and circled him, “Unique skin tone for a zabrak and those tattoos would definitely raise the price even higher. Are there more of your kind living? I’ve been dying to get my hands on some you, but the Nightsisters don’t like sharing.”

Uncontained anger gathered in his hands, “Another failure for your slave empire like with the gigorans?”

“What did you say?” her pupils narrowed into slits and she bared her sharpened teeth.

“Reesta!” Baelop froze the room. “Leave. Now.”

“But, Soter! The impudent, Dathomirian slave has no right to speak to me in such a way.”

“Go,” he sighed his exhaustion. “I’m saving your life.”

She looked between the Vos’, Maul, and Baelop and clicked her tongue at them.

“This isn’t over, Nightbrother.”

Once she was well out of sight, Baelop returned to the trio with defeatism.

“What is it you want?”

Maul shadowed the slumped creature, content to have him right where he wanted, “The names, history, and affiliations of those within the Emperor’s ruling council.”

Baelop jerked up, “What? You’re not an Imperial? I was so sure he had finally sent someone to kill me. Finally.”

He stared deeply at the red and yellow hues, creating discomfort in Maul that made him growl.

“I’ve seen eyes like that before. If you’re not with the Emperor, then who are you?”

Maul held a hand up at Vos to cease his prattling and whatever nonsense excuse he was bound to come up with.

“I am Maul. Leader of the Crimson Veil.”

Eylanis cackled with delight, “I knew it! There’s a reason I like keeping you alive, Dryden.”

“Shut up,” Vos’ patience for both his sisters was running thin.

“A crime lord?” Baelop blinked in surprise. “A Sith crime lord? Now I must have seen everything.”

“What do you know of the Sith?” Maul was getting aggravated at the rodian’s constant divergence to things he knew nothing about.

Baelop was silent. His drooping lips twitched to withhold the sorrow that glistened his eyes.

“Very little,” he said meekly. “Only that those who affiliate with its ways are harbingers of great pain and suffering.”

 _He knew one personally_ , Maul’s curiosity brought many questions but none that could help his cause.

“We are harbingers of power and victory,” Maul corrected. “This is your final warning. Cooperate or I will end you.”

Vos made an audible grunt of disdain but covered his mouth with the palm of his hand to keep from speaking out of turn. Eylanis, however, could not contain herself.

“What’s a Sith? Is it like a Jedi? Is Zahri one too?”

“Zahri?” Baelop’s body shook and his breaths deepened. “Zahri is here? Where is she?”

He searched the room like a delirious old male for a woman who didn’t exist.

 _No_ , Maul wasn’t familiar with the name, but the apprentice was. He did not miss her shock when Eezula recognized it.

“Do you want to see how she looks like?” Eylanis was hardly concerned for the count’s mental well-being and held out a holodevice to display a holoimage of Móni in the dress she was currently wearing. “Isn’t she stunning?”

“When did you—” Vos could no longer hold back his temper. “What is wrong with you? Delete that!”

“No.”

Baelop stared at Móni as if he had known her his whole life but with a shade of unfamiliarity when he glanced at her from certain angles.

When Maul thought his observations had taken long enough, and the primal need to cease the rodian’s deep analysis over her form, he raised the device with the Force and crushed it.

“Hey!” Eylanis started.

“What is her name? Her real name?” Baelop gasped.

Maul sneered at the impudent demand and was prepared to subjugate the count with dying breaths. And Baelop saw the malice building in the muscles and tensing the hands, so he was quick to jump to his assumptions.

“Is it Durmónia?”

“Enough!” Maul erupted, doing his best to not kill the count where he stood without the information he needed. “I am not here to speak about the apprentice.”

Somehow, whatever he said was enough for Baelop to make his mind up and turned to the siblings, “The two of you can see yourselves out.”

“I don’t think that’s a wise a decision,” Vos spoke carefully about the half-crazed zabrak who was ready to bite into flesh.

“Do as I say, you petty thief.”

“Did you call me petty?”

“I know you never ‘lost’ my shipment of antiquities but stole them for yourself. Do you think I was born yesterday? Now, please, get out of my sight.”

Vos straightened his coat and shrugged without apology, gladly seeing his way out.

“Those children are not my favorites.”

He guided the unexpected guest to the room Maul came from; a simple guestroom with none of the amenities touched.

Baelop’s hands still shook from the shock of Móni’s image when he motioned Maul to take a seat in the lounge area but was declined with a steely stare that made him sit down instead.

“Tell me what it is I need to hear. You have eluded from the topic long enough and exhausted your chances,” he recalled his lightsaber but not illuminate it.

“Zahri Tefnit,” Baelop began with the name that carried no meaning for Maul. “That is the name of Durmónia’s mother.”

A woman humming a lullaby echoed in Maul’s mind along with the firm safety of an embrace. Then her bruised and battered form dragging across the dirt with the last of her strength, blood spilling out of her mouth, and Móni’s scream that shook the planet from a memory he made her relive. A memory she had forgotten and the source of who she was.

But it was not what he came there for. 

Maul ignited one end of the lightsaber and pointed at the creature’s swollen, green head, “I did not ask about the apprentice.”

“I don’t know how long I have left to live, but if I could, in some way, help her daughter in some capacity then please allow me to.”

“Her goals align with mine, therefore assisting me is assisting her.”

_Strike him!_

His arm did not follow his command. It remained where it was, erect and steadfast yet with a single step the blade could pierce right into the center of the count’s skull.

“She designed this estate,” Baelop paid no mind to the threats and soaked in the ceilings and walls and flooring. “Brilliant woman and _he_ saw it as well.” The forlorn reflection melted into a hardened face, “We knew him, Zahri and I. Before he was a Senator. Before he was Chancellor. Before he was Darth.”

He stood and the blade followed, although, it lost any conviction to sever or burn and Maul gripped the hilt tighter to reclaim the sensation. But he slipped into disbelief, refusing to accept the deeper connection she had with a being who continued to hold their fates in his hands.

“Lies,” Maul snarled, the fires of rage consuming his sight and burning them. “A pathetic creature like yourself would be dead if you had known his secret up until this point.”

“That’s what I had thought, but he kept me alive, turning my home into a prison, to leech off my contacts, resources, money, and status for his own pursuits. However, I was only useful during the Naboo Crisis and Clone Wars. Since he had his Empire, however, I have become disposable.”

This was what Móni had been waiting for, what her mother had clearly kept from her, and what the Force had blinded her from. The lightsaber was heavy in his grasp and Maul struggled to sustain the threat while he battled with the instinct to forget about her and focus on the plan.

He gave into a force lowering his hand and severed the saber.

 _I gave her my word_ , however, he was positive that whatever Baelop knew would possibly destroy Móni’s image of her mother when it had been so fragile to begin with.

“Do you know what she is?”

Baelop hung his head and sucked in a shaky breath—

Maul held his hand up, sensing a dramatic spike in the Force outside the room and down to the main floor. The estate permeated a pestilence of the very feelings that lingered about, taunting him of the incoming calamity he didn’t see but was stronger than ever and in the room with them.

There was chatter amongst the guards, then deathly silence.

The automatic door slid open to them with their blasters raised but faltered at the trigger at the unexpected being standing alongside the count. Maul lifted one in a Force choke and the other fired which he deflected to their chest, then drew the other into his blade.

“Get to the balcony,” he commanded the count who was a bundle of jittery nerves from the slaughter.

It opened at their presence and Maul lifted Baelop onto the awning with the Force, a scowl reaching his nostril at the scream. He leaped alongside him and raised his commlink.

“Karan,” he called for the theelin child but was met with static then a different voice.

“ **Hello…** ”

The iktotchi male who followed the theelin everywhere and Maul was not impressed.

“Where is the boy?”

“ **Busy at the moment. Uh. I can take a message?** ”

He settled the rising anger and managed to not lash out at the impudence by restraining it to a stiff jaw, “Do you know what our current situation is?”

“ **Well…,** ” he stalled, and Maul wished there was a visual to see him squirm for his life, “ **Someone from inside ordered the guards to kill Count Baelop and when they didn’t respond (thanks to a certain someone) a transmission was sent to someone outside the estate grounds?** ”

There was more to it than that. Maul’s ears rang at something large penetrating the atmosphere and he knew what it was before he needed to be told. He went to ask about Móni’s whereabouts but stilled at an explosion of her emotions engulfing the entire estate.

They pressed against his chest, suffocating him, and he heard her cry of anguish in his mind, tasted her fear on his lips, and felt her presence deep inside the complex.

Maul searched for air as if he had been the one running. His surroundings were muted, barely hearing the shouts from his commlink.

A firm shake on his shoulder pulled him out of the reverie and the count spoke clearly, “Maul, if you need my help then you need to get me off this planet. Imperials are on their way.”

Their presence hardly mattered. He had never felt her in such a state before. Maul’s throat constricted with a desperate need to shout for her and bring her to his side so they could get off the sterile world. Pretend that the sensation was his panic playing tricks on his mind.

But he knew that cry. A cry for help.

_Control it._

He expanded his fear and unleashed the fury that bubbled beneath, strengthening his resolve and his connection to the Force. And it had never felt so powerful.

“Follow me and stay close,” he warned the count who jolted at the deep growl that held a vicious inflection.

“Where are we going?” he dared ask.

“To find Durmónia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :]
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Suffering

The middle child and forgotten sibling. Not being the oldest meant fewer responsibilities and the pressure of carrying the family’s name was hardly noticeable. Not being the youngest was a blessing for all the love and care was diverted to the nurturing of a tiny goddess.

Dryden Vos faded into the walls of the painted portraits of his lineage, letting Eezula take the claim while he continued his own tasks. Culminated his own collections and self-interests. Created his own legacy without anyone’s expectations. He was a stellar businessman, skilled conversationalist, and held no code of morals. He just needed a venture that could cure his boredom and free himself from his sister’s rule, which was why he happily obliged to siding with Maul. A crime lord with a goal of taking down the Empire was certainly an exciting opportunity he couldn’t let pass and his pride wasn’t so big where he was bothered by being an underling (although the death threats were getting a bit old).

It was also why he was ‘closer’ to the youngest sister out of the two, and by that Dryden meant tolerable. He had less of an urge to kill Eylanis than he did Eezula which was the extent of his brotherly affections.

Dryden took a larger stride to pass his sister’s slightly shorter ones and cut her off from going any further.

“Why are you being particularly difficult?”

Eylanis was mildly amused at Dryden’s anxiousness, “What’s got you so worked up?” she flashed a peek at the zabrak’s receding form into the crowd. “Who is this Opress really?” her pink lips stretched for the juicy piece of information.

“Don’t avoid the subject,” he lifted a strict finger. “I need to speak to the Count. It is urgent.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“My life is on the line if I don’t seek him out.”

“That doesn’t concern me.”

“I’ll tell you who it is I’m working for.”

“I think I may already have an idea.”

Dryden clicked his tongue and pulled her to a discreet corner and away from prying ears.

“Eezula appointed me to kill your husband,” Dryden gave in. “There. Was that what you wanted to hear?”

The rosy innocence of her soft features shriveled to the gray tones of maliciousness in her grin and a touch of desperation reached her eyes.

“Yes,” Eylanis hissed with glee. “She finally made her move.”

“Great,” he guided her toward the count’s location. “Is he even here?”

“No,” she scoffed. “I checked him in so Eezula could get off my back with her needless pestering since her discovery of him being in league with the Imperials. Honestly, did she really think Xile wouldn’t crack under the Empire’s pressure? Man is as weak as a shaak.”

“You do realize she plans on disposing of you as well.”

“Not if I get to her first, big brother,” she poked the tip of his nose. “You may be looking at the future owner of our enterprise. Unless you’re having second thoughts about giving up your line of succession?”

“You lot can have father’s scraps,” Dryden dismissed her. “I have my own plans.”

“Clearly,” she exaggerated. “Tell me more about Zahri. Do you know her personally?”

The response she received was a vexed groan, “What do you want with her?”

“I’m bored and lonely, Dryden,” Eylanis faked a whine like some poor maiden. “It’s obvious she’s a fighter, plus she’s charming and funny, and I need a fun companion,” she pouted.

“You’re just looking for someone to conspire with against your husband.”

“Eezula is right about having him removed. He’s become a liability to our family’s name and reputation. But when I take over his company, then I’ll be taking full advantage of being the Empire’s pet.”

“I wish you all the luck you don’t need.”

The two ceased conversing at the comical spectacle of Eezula making stomping strides to the spiraling staircase.

“Look at that face!” Eylanis pointed. “Who got her so upset?”

Dryden shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, refusing to accept the two most likely people who could execute such a feat. No one he knew would dare cross her otherwise.

It was supposed to be simple. Easy. Get in, talk to Count Baelop, then get out, but he should have known nothing goes according to plan when Maul was involved.

A slight hysteria was circulating in his stomach and it may have been Eezula potentially already plotting something against his lord, which was the last thing he needed, and how the Empire was involved in some way but couldn’t point to at what or how exactly.

 _It’ll be fine_ , he comforted himself. As long they were quick with what they needed.

Stars he wished it would be true…

There was going to be a reckoning tonight. Whether it started with lord Maul, Móni, Eezula, or Eylanis, Dryden was sure someone was going to propel an onslaught.

Just as long it wasn’t him starting it, he outright didn’t care.

-

Strolling through the crowd with dulled senses and no Maul to concern herself with, Móni had the opportunity to admire the guest’s gowns and capes flowing across the main floor with raised crystals and plastic smiles. When an interesting conversation would drift her way, she would introduce herself into the circle, seamlessly and without question, brokering her way through with a joke or two about the Empire or complimenting someone to the point of making them blush. In this way, she picked up on the galaxy’s news from beings who were far more involved than she ever could be.

“Did you hear of the new Order the Emperor announced in the senate meeting?”

“Yes, each sector is to be assigned a Sector Governor from the Imperial Military.”

“A Moff is what they’re titled.”

“Aren’t they only commanding a fleet within a sector? Not actually governing it for control.”

“Don’t be naïve. Of course, it’s to monitor an entire sector which means we aren’t free to travel as we please anymore.”

Móni would politely excuse herself, humming her interest at the obvious difficulty for space travel in the future which won’t bode well for pirates and crime syndicates. It would take several standard months to map their courses, stops, protocols, and security clearances to get past any of them. She wondered if Maul was already made aware of it.

 _Most likely_.

Her focus rose to the top floor where she left Maul to deal with his own devices. Móni wasn’t particularly concerned, she believed he was capable enough to control his nature. Based solely on what she had heard about the Empire expanding its venom to every area of the galaxy, Vos was correct in Baelop being their last and good chance to have an ear inside the Imperial Council.

A vision of his tattooed lips moving, his brow raised and no longer shadowing the details on his face, and his eyes gleaming brightly in the night with a feeling she was in denial of sensing.

Móni tugged on a strand of her hair, a smile making its way across with a light giggle.

“Drinking already?”

She internalized a groan at the voice but couldn’t complain after telling Maul she could handle the oldest Vos and keep her away from their business.

“I don’t drink,” Móni displayed a half-placed enthusiasm. “Haven’t in several cycles.”

Eezula was somewhat impressed and waved her own drink around, “That’s a shame. Now I can’t offer you one like a proper host.”

“What a relief for you, huh?”

“Not really. Sober people are less likely to make a slip and embarrass themselves.”

“I meant it’s a huge relief that I am sober because I would take charge of this really tamed party you have going on here.”

“This is not a club.”

“Which means,” Móni drawled for suspense and pointed to a designated area with service droids holding trays of delectable items, “free food.”

She side-stepped, spun, and slipped through the throng of beings until she reached a selection of bite-sized pastries filled with puffed cheese, topped with rose honey, and a berry Móni was unfamiliar with. In an almost uncouth manner, she popped an entire piece in her mouth and took into serious consideration the texture and flavors of the morsel.

If Eezula’s eyebrow rose any higher it could have reached the hairline and murmured into her cup, “Atrocious manners.”

“Was that a local fruit?” Móni licked her fingers and searched the next tray for a new item to taste.

“Obviously.”

“A little undercooked, but still decent.”

She blinked fast, taking into consideration the display before her but Eezula reverted fast to more substantial subjects.

“I do not see your other half anywhere. Not polite to leave a lady alone.”

Móni covered her mouth, doing her best not to choke on her food item at the description. She swallowed and cleared her throat from the discomfort.

“Doing some business with Vos. Don’t really know the particulars.”

“Not interested in his work?” she was disappointed. “Then what is it you do?”

“I uh,” Móni examined between her fingers a toasted square bread with a cream of cheese and blue jam topped with gold leaf. “I used to be a chef on Coruscant now I spend my time at home.”

“Oh?” Eezula feigned a surprise. “So, you have no relations with Zahri Tefnit? The architect and designer of my estate.”

Her mouth went dry and the little food Móni ate was churning in her stomach, along with a nauseating headache.

“I don’t,” she started, unsure, and without deception, “know anyone by that name who was an architect.”

 _Only a mother_ , and Móni had doubts about the truth of that as well. Then she examined the floor beneath her feet, a beauty that matched the precious stones in her hair to reflect the natural light through the transparent panes above, then the fusion of organic and inorganic life to shape the area; very much how the home she lived in used to be. In every pillar, every arch and curve were imprints of the geometry and science that made nature but deconstructed to its base foundations into the massive ballroom she stood in.

Móni didn’t want to believe what she recognized but she was everywhere, her mother, and it brought no sense of pride; only the resentment she felt toward her when she was young and ignorant.

“Why don’t I show you? My father was good friends with her back in his university days, he should have some memorabilia stored around somewhere.”

“That’s awfully nice of you,” Móni verbalized her suspicion. “And why now? Don’t you have to entertain your guests?”

“Consider it an apology for my rude behavior with you and your partner. As for my guests,” she set her crystal cup onto an empty tray moving past, “frankly I don’t know who half of these people are, but it’s good to make an impression every now and then with flare, alcohol, and… ‘free food’.”

Nothing out of the ordinary could be sensed…

 _Or she’s a really good liar_.

However, little did Móni realize her senses were clouded by bitterness toward her mother’s past. The mystery behind an older sibling she never knew was hardly the start of the myriad of things kept hidden from her and she couldn’t begin to wrap her head around her mother being a university student. Then it dawned on her how little she knew. Nowhere in her memories of their conversations around the dining table, in her bedroom before bed, or laying sprawled out in a field with the sun on their faces did her mother ever mention the past.

In her mind, Móni always thought she had lived on Devaron, causing a surge of fury at the questions being considered now and not when she was alive and whole.

 _Was this why I was brought here?_ To solve an incomplete puzzle of her existence.

Móni lifted her gaze to Eezula, the ring humming in her ears, but it didn’t matter. Or she chose to ignore it—pretended there was no danger.

 _Maybe this is my chance_.

“Show me.”

Through the crowd, up the staircase, and a maze of halls and corridors, Eezula guided her without a word between them. Móni flicked a glance or two at the woman who was staring off, far away—not in a present state of mind and who had probably forgotten someone was beside her. Which was why her abrupt stop then sharp spin was startling.

“Here we go,” Eezula returned with the mask of pleasantries.

They were in a far deeper area of the estate Móni sensed—the cluster of lifeforms a good distance away from where they were, and secluded. Quiet.

 _Too quiet_. Usually, each section of the home was occupied by a maid or two but in the rotund sunroom—brightened by the moon’s white glow—it held the emptiness of abandonment.

“You have a guest,” Eezula spoke to the shadows across from them, then angled her head down to ensnare the shorter being in her deceit, “Durmónia.”

Her body turned cold from the fearsome presence lurking in the room. The sinister aura was stifling and oddly familiar; the recollection struggling to start and set off a chain of images she never quite processed before and should have a long time ago.

 _The Abolition_ … She had felt it then and the Third Brother's pointed hatred at her specifically.

He stepped into the light, careful not to scare off his prey and taking his time in devouring his long-awaited victory.

Móni winced at his Force energy clashing against hers, bullying her into submission, but when she sucked in a breath to pushback with ten times more power the air was completely sucked out of her body. Her first thought she was being Force choked but it was her panic seizing control and his name were needles on her tongue.

“U’lis.”

“How long has it been, Móni?”

A strangled noise came out of her mouth at the voice she thought had been silenced long ago. Still the same—still condescending and under the delusion of control. The sound grated against her brain with a detestation that made her eyes hot with tears. In the mix was the weight of her guilt being unpacked, forcing her to witness the consequences of holding it inside for so long and not facing it.

“Do we have a deal?” Eezula’s heels struck hard in the empty space, her status resounding across the estate. “Not a credit of my shares goes to the Empire. The Emperor can find someone else to design Imperial facilities on his conquered planets.”

Third Brother inclined his head, a white gleam reflecting off his polished helmet.

“What deal?”

Eezula froze, wide and glaring eyes staring hard enough in the hopes to shatter his skull.

“You lost your deal when you invited Count Baelop in a den of enemies against the Empire and began negotiations with him.”

“What?” she bit. “None had taken place! He came here to seek help and I pretended to promise him asylum, just like you asked.”

“He spoke with your siblings, so a meeting did, in fact, take place.”

“Those stupid—!” she started to pull at her scalp but reflected on her appearance and regained composure with new resolve.

She reached the base of her back, under the coat, and pulled out a claw-shaped vibroblade and spun it with a finger.

“No deal then.”

Móni raised a hand, finding enough strength to articulate the dangers, “Wait—”

Eezula was deaf to the warning and charged after Third Brother with a precise slash at the throat but was easily dodged. She continued with a flurry of swipes, pushing him back until he went to the offensive and held her wrist and put her arm into an armlock behind her back. The pain did little to slow her down and dipped her body to twist her arm out of his hold and went for a cut at his stomach.

Tired of the match, Third Brother called his lightsaber and emitted the red blade, the glowing weapon alone halting Eezula with doubts.

“A Jedi?”

She was lifted in the air with the Force, the strain on her face showing she was making every effort to move but could not.

“In a few minutes, your estate will be overrun with Imperial troops and put you and your guests under arrest for conspiring against the Empire. Oh, and also,” he brought her close enough where her gasps fogged his visor, “No one says no to my master.”

He flung her against a wall, knocking her out, then turned to Móni whose nerves jumped at the attention.

“Didn’t want to help?” he ridiculed. “That’s not surprising.”

“You’re supposed to be… I saw—”

There was a loss of air from her fast breaths, and when she considered who was possibly watching and listening Móni’s throat swelled and vision blurred.

“Saw me die?”

His laugh were nails scraping her skin raw—demeaning and painful—bringing to the surface a life she wished she hadn’t lived. Countless times wished she didn’t. The confidence she steadily built day by day, the clarity to believe in a future for herself, crumbled apart and it was like being back on Coruscant and the Abolition: alone, disgusted at herself, and lost.

 _Kyp. I need to see Kyp_. He was the only one who mattered. Talk to him before he knew.

He took a step forward. Móni took a step back.

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” he brought the lightsaber into position and his knees were bent, ready to pounce. “You are going to die like the traitorous harpy you are.”

There was a soft brush of wind when he leaped, a red glow illuminating his helmet and she could feel the grin plastered on his face to take the kill. Móni’s body shook under the hatred and rage directed at her—what she deserved for what she had done to him. To Kyp. But as the distance between the blade and her neck shortened, the fear expanded and gripped her body, forcing her to react in an explosion.

Her larynx went sore from the scream, and without control she expelled her suffering and hurled a tidal wave of the Force against the Third Brother, sending him far back to the shadows from whence he came.

Móni didn’t spare a second to run out the sunroom and into the hall. The walls were converging, suffocating, disorienting the paths to her escape, and tilting the floors. Dry sobs heaved from her chest and she guided herself by following the walls with hands pressed against them and by doing so vibrations of screams touched the fingertips and coursed up her arms.

It was faint and far, the blaster fire along with a new surplus of lifeforce descending onto the estate. She hyper fixated on her touch for anything that could help pull her out of the quicksand she was being sucked into.

Relief slightly opened the airways in her chest when she reached a lift, smacked a palm against the panel, and fell inside, quickly closing it behind her.

“Kyp,” she mustered a groan. “Kyp, please. Take me to where you are.”

An answer to her prayer, the lift’s panel made a selection and ascended on its own.

_Find Kyp. Have him contact Maul and tell him to make his way out on his own. Then leave with Kyp and tell him…_

Móni hardly had the strength in her arms to hold her upper body off the ground.

_I meant to tell him. Always meant to…_

The lift stopped and she raised herself with the Force’s assistance, but her control of it reflected the instability of her emotions and could only go as far as carrying her out into the new hall, on her feet.

“Móni?”

Kyp’s voice carried down and he powered the hoverchair to speed to her side.

“Kyp, we have to go,” she leaned onto the armrest where his non-dominant arm rested on. “Where’s Qar-Tan and Nyla?”

“They’re on their way,” he said offhandedly. “But I have to stay and help the people escape the Imperials. I’ve gotten a good chunk to their ships already.”

“There’s no time to help them,” Móni spoke over him. “We can’t stay here a second longer.”

Kyp felt her shaking hand on his forearm then trailed it up to quivering shoulders and dry lips.

“I need to do this. They’re more important than you realize. They’re allies.”

She shook her head, “I don’t care about them. Listen, you need to contact Maul and tell him to get to the ship without me and that I’m going with you guys.”

“Coming with us? Móni, we can take care of ourselves we don’t need you to—”

“You don’t understand!” she kneeled before him and held his face in her hands, forcing him to look straight into her desperation. “I’ll explain everything once we’re off-planet and out into hyperspace but right now my priority is you.”

“I don’t—," her fear seeped under Kyp’s skin and he felt nothing but concern for her, “I don’t understand.”

A lightsaber’s illumination sliced the conversation. Cold sweat slid down the nape of Móni’s neck and along her spine at the encounter she should have known would be inevitable.

 _Why are you doing this to me?_ She bowed her head and pleaded to the Force. _Give me more time to explain._

“Is that one of those Inquisitors you told me about?”

Móni exhaled a dry chuckle that broke halfway into a sob when she felt Kyp trying to extend his courage and compassion into her, stroking her arched back.

“Oh, Kyp,” the presence of two familiar beings were making haste to where they were, and she softly nudged his shoulders. “Go to Qar-Tan and Nyla. I’ll meet up with you.”

“There’s nowhere for you to run, Móni.”

She must have given something away either with a glance or body language for when Móni met Kyp’s stare, there was a horrifying realization battling with denial.

“Go,” she urged but his fingers twitched over the hoverchair’s controls and moved against her. “Kyp, it’s not—it’s not him. Not anymore.”

“Move,” he turned blind to her presence and swerved around.

U’lis’ lightsaber faltered at the instant connection and took a step forward, drawn to Kyp.

“Please, U’lis,” Móni begged, hoping there was a rational part himself left within the Dark Side’s dense fog. “You don’t have to do this.”

His head jerked back and regained the grip on the lightsaber, spiraling into form, then pounded his feet with unwavering determination.

“You’re the one I’m here for,” he heaved. “If he gets in my way, I’ll kill him too.”

The Force charged around Móni, waiting to be of use in her hands, and she bared her teeth to slash back with a threat of her own but Kyp moved forward.

“Don’t get any closer,” Móni was strict with her demand and he stopped out of obedience, but it did not deter him from speaking.

“You were dead,” he analyzed his clothing and the Imperial’s mark at the sleeve. “Why would you become a… You were getting better,” Kyp stuttered to a stop.

The prolonged silence was loud and Móni broke at the laugh that was too loud for her senses and returning her to the shackles of guilt.

“She didn’t tell you!” his glee was unprecedented. “How I _died_.”

He raised a hand and lifted Móni with the Force drawing him to her. She was immobile under his hold when he brought her face to face with him, and tried as she might to concentrate on her emotion, to expel the Force within her, it was futile to manage the disarray in her mind.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” he said with disappointment. “I can’t wait to kill you.”

His strength was mildly weaker against her physical prowess and Móni managed to open her mouth and spoke stiffly, “I’m sure your Emperor would be ecstatic to know you killed the very person he had been looking for years for.”

U’lis squeezed tighter then threw her against the wall, holding her in place.

“Still the smart mouth,” he groaned. “But it won’t get you out of telling him the truth.”

He brought her against the floor and Móni felt a sting on her lip and a bruise forming along the side of her face. U’lis pressed her again but she resisted the pressure on her back by lifting her body against it, and she could hear the strain under the helmet.

“Dad! Stop it!”

Kyp hovered closer and the movement alone was enough to fill Móni’s lungs with the strength to shout.

“No, Kyp! Don’t get involved!”

 _I need to concentrate_ , the spurts of clarity that appeared snuffed in an instant when she considered what she had to do in order to alleviate the mental disruption. She was stuck in a perpetual state of fear at the repercussions, the hate, the abhorrence that would come with the truth.

Móni slid across the floor under U’lis’ Force and stopped where she could see Kyp making fast movements with his fingers across the armrest’s panel. There was a sigh of relief of him contacting Qar-Tan but she had to keep U’lis at bay so they could make their getaway.

She started to lift herself but was shoved down with the Force.

U’lis’ black boots glistened in the lighting when he stepped around her and came into view between her and Kyp. He raised his lightsaber and pointed it at her first, then slowly drew to his son.

“Tell him, Móni. Tell him how I died.”

“What’s he talking about?” Kyp stared. “You got caught in a gang war and dad and his crew died.”

Móni swallowed a mix of spit and blood and rolled her eyes back to keep from breaking under the pressure on her body, the broken laugh, and her betrayal.

She was raised off the ground and her face was held in place.

“It was me,” Móni’s vision blurred and she shut her eyes to spare herself from watching his heart being shredded.

“I killed U’lis.”

-

Maul had never been put in the position of escorting someone, and he realized within minutes of being with an old and useless count what an incredible liability he was and how it would have been so much easier to force out the information then kill him.

 _She needs him_ , he kept reminding himself. _A link to her past_.

Inside, the estate was overrun by stormtroopers turning guests into prisoners and executing those who resisted. Around the next corner, Maul being led by instinct and Móni’s clouded Force energy, he was met with another pack of Imperial dogs.

 _No time to find another way around_ , not when she was in danger and he couldn’t imagine of what. She had faced Imperials before, extinguishing them with ease, so what could have created such a reaction?

He stepped out and took one with the Force, hurtling them against the wall, then reflected their attacks to them. Several fell under their own bolts then he controlled one’s blaster, angling it to shoot at their comrades. The minions did not back down when he edged closer, none of their shots landing a mark, and Maul commended their efforts by severing their hands and heads with little effort.

With the Force, he raised a blaster rifle and flung it behind him.

“Make yourself useful when I do not have the time to spare my attention to your life.”

Shaking hands seized the blaster and Count Baelop held it close to his chest.

“R-right,” he stepped forward.

The stormtrooper who slammed against the wall shifted an arm and the count jumped at the movement, dropping the blaster after firing a single shot into its head.

“Oh my… oh my stars,” he nervously tapped his face with the rounded tips of his fingers. “I’ve never—I’ve never shot anyone before.”

Maul growled his frustrations and shoved the blaster in his hands before pushing him forward.

“If you wish your death to be sooner rather than later, then I suggest you keep shooting. It will get easier,” he finished offhandedly.

“I doubt that,” the count mumbled.

They traversed the endless halls until Maul led them to a lift with a broken computer panel.

Count Baelop hummed his intrigue, “They may have broken all the floor-based panels.”

Maul attempted to contact Karan but continued to be met with static. He was starting to believe the missing apprentice and unresponsive theelin were connected in some way.

“If I may make a suggestion?” the count raised a meek finger. He took the long and penetrating stare as his okay to continue. “I know this estate very well and can take us to one of the family’s suites which usually have staircases or lifts that could take us to the next floor.”

Maul searched the count for any ploys and although he sensed nothing peculiar, he wasn’t sold on the bumbling and fumbling pretense. If he was truly acquainted with Sidious, then he wasn’t someone to tread lightly around.

Without many options at hand in an unknown environment and Vos was most likely hidden away somewhere, Maul gestured his head to get a move on.

“Trying to put yourself in the political game?” the count started conversation and testing Maul’s patience. “Didn’t think crime lords were interested in those sorts of things. Which is why they’re called crime lords…”

They reached a section where the once sun-yellow walls faded with age and had less of the delicate or prismatic touches from the previous areas they went through. It was much more rugged in the décor and bulky in the furnishings, all of which have collected dust through the years.

“My business does not concern you,” Maul growled. “Keep walking.”

“If you want me to cooperate, I think it does,” the count leaned away from the scowl that threatened with violence. “At least, that’s how these things usually go.”

The deeper they ventured the dimmer the lights due to lack of maintenance on the glowpanels and the smell of dust permeated the undisturbed area.

“Well,” the count continued, “There aren’t many I can think of who would be willing to side with you while also stealing the Empire’s secrets. From what we have gathered, Sheev has nearly taken over Hutt space, the most notorious and well-regarded crime family, and it’s going to be bad business for you if he continues to plow through the underworld.”

“The Hutt family wasn’t under my control. The other families are.”

Count Baelop blinked fast with astonishment, “You plan on taking over the Empire. With Durmónia?”

“Yes,” Maul said with confidence. “I will overthrow the old man and his legacy,” _with her at my side_.

“Chairperson Chazilla of Impigri Industries would probably take an interest. Then there’s Jaa Berik, president of Alumentum, Rhoro Dean, Vol Tillian, Harik Daraay… Are you getting all this?”

“And the Imperial Ruling Council?”

“I’m afraid those… things are far out of your reach. Their loyalty to Sheev is akin to a pirate’s loyalty to credits. But the names I gave you have connections with them to some capacity.”

They stopped before an automatic door that has been disabled and the control panel disconnected.

“This is a problem,” Baelop tapped his arm.

Maul ignited his lightsaber and burned a hole into the door which he stepped through without a word. He held the saber up to shed light in the dreary study, the only other source of light came from the shelves along the walls that held archival data of various subjects in history, architecture, and religious texts on the Force.

“I wonder what Zahri would think of her daughter training under a Sith,” the count made his way to a desk and powered a screen embedded into the surface. “If I’m understanding what you mean by calling her an apprentice.”

“What are you doing?” Maul pointed his blade at the count who did not give it any attention.

“One moment.”

He was calm despite the pressure being placed upon him and illuminated a holoimage of several beings huddled in a group before an institutional building of sorts.

A sneer stretched his features and Maul was quick to disregard the image until a young man with red hair stared back at him with the illusion of a regular human; a gleam of malevolence in his blue eyes gave away the true persona beneath the regal robes and polite grin.

“Recognized him in an instant,” whatever suspicions the count may have had regarding Maul was instantly replaced with the beginnings of a comradery. “And next to him is—”

“Her mother.”

Beside his master was a woman with dark skin and a smile that was a replica of her daughter’s. Maul felt a connection with her when his mind transported to the visions he shared with Móni, her care and affections toward the small being in her arms. He also gravitated to her swollen stomach.

“She is carrying Durmónia there,” Baelop answered knowingly, his mood turning wet with sorrow. “Does she laugh a lot? Zahri loved to laugh.”

 _Not recently_ , Maul frowned at the reasoning.

There was a crash above them, and he scanned the area where he stopped at a spiraling staircase that connected the floors. A case slid open with effort followed by a woman’s grunt at the labor. Stepping into the glowing blue rows of archives was Eezula with unkempt hair and some bruising on her cheek.

“Ah, Count Baelop,” she forced her enthusiasm but when she landed on Maul, her tone dropped dramatically. “You.”

“Surprised to see me alive?” Baelop followed her down the staircase.

“I was,” her gaze darted immediately to the lightsaber’s red glow, “but now I see how you made it out.”

“No need to sound disappointed,” the count slid a glance of suspicion but said nothing more when harsh whispering was heard outside the room.

“Why are you following me?”

“Because I want to stay and see how this plays out.”

“You mean to tell me you’ve been able to leave at any given moment this entire time?”

“My husband is an Imperial now,” Eylanis paused. “There’s a hole in the door.”

Vos stepped in and his shoulders sagged with relief upon seeing a very alive Count Baelop with Maul.

“One good thing came out of this. Ugh,” he was immediately disgusted at the sight of Eezula, “why are you here?”

“Your Imperial _friend_ tried to kill me.”

“Imperial frie—what are you talking about? You’re the one who invited them here.”

“Only to trade Baleop’s life and this one’s ‘ _girlfriend_ ’ for anonymity, but of course someone decided to begin negotiations with him behind my back.”

Count Baelop was hardly impressed, “Sounds like your deal failed out of incompetence.”

Eylanis cackled, “Always blaming others for your mistakes.”

“Wait,” Vos paled, “did you just say…?”

He sucked back the rest of his words when a familiar pressure against his body tightened the lungs. He shifted to an open stance when the room quaked and covered Eylanis’ mouth before she said anything that could get them both killed.

Maul’s vision turned red and his body heated with a lifetime of fury boiling in his veins, turning his gold eyes a deeper shade. His hands strained to use the Force but decided on a more personal method so she could feel every inch of his rage.

He moved fast before her, holding her neck in a tight grip, and forced her down to his level before slamming her against the wall.

“What did you do?” his voice dropped, masking the escalating panic, and feeling the quickening of her pulse under his fingers.

Eezula retrieved her clawed blade and aimed for his neck but Maul allowed it to pierce his other hand and pried it out of her hold, tossing it aside. He flexed the wound, releasing the nerves of pain up his arm to add fuel to the flames searing his insides.

“You’re—Aren’t you one of them?”

Maul searched off to the side for what she referred to, his lightsaber an obvious indicator of a connection with the Empire. Then, he understood who was sent here.

“No,” he squeezed. “I am far worse.”

He held a hand up and pressed the Force into her thoughts, succumbing her to his will. She thrashed and shouted from the intrusion, pulling at his arm and clothes, but he was hardly moved from her pleas; his will outranking hers.

“Eezula,” Eylanis came around and watched Maul curiously. “Can’t you be tortured more quietly? Just tell him what he wants.”

“It would also speed up the process to make our escape,” Vos agreed with his younger sister.

Even in the middle of her mind being skewered, Eezula managed to roll her eyes.

“Oh!” Eylanis pointed. “She’ll talk, she’ll talk.”

Maul severed the Force connection but not his hold on her, and she exhaled sweet relief of having her mind again. She took a moment to glare at her siblings before putting her attention to the fierce monstrosity before her.

“Part of my arrangement with the Third Brother was to hand over Zahri or _Durmónia_. I don’t know what he wants with her and I didn’t care to find out.”

“What you get for making deals with Imperials,” Eylanis picked at a nail.

“You’re one to talk. Traitor.”

“You’re mistaken,” Eylanis grinned widely. “I believe you are the traitor now.”

“What?” Eezula snapped.

 _He knows her by name_ , Maul released his hold and muted the sibling quarrel. _Master had known she would be here._

He touched where her lightsaber was inside his cloak and spun at Vos.

“Do you have a route of escape?”

“We do.”

“Take the count with you and get off-planet.”

“What about you?”

“The apprentice and I will find our own way out.”

The Dark Side still latched to his body, unsatisfied. Maul faced Eezula who was using the wall as a support to stagger her way off the floor then raised his lightsaber.

Her scream was cut short when he spoke over her, his saber piercing a hole into her shoulder blade.

“Any sudden movements and you may lose an arm, milady,” he drove deeper, slowly; relishing her pain. “You will turn yourself over to the Empire and become your brother’s informant. Do I make myself clear?”

Eezula’s mind was muddled with caution to not move for her arm’s sake and what he was asking of her.

“I refuse,” she spat. “No one knows what he did. No one believes what I know. But the Emperor planned the Clone Wars. I know he did. None of it made any sense. And he played us all for fools. I will not be part of his schemes any longer.”

“He is not your ruler,” Maul angled the blade ever so slightly, taking in her stuttering breaths and pasty skin perspiring from the imminent danger to her life. “I am.”

Her face twitched from a battle she could not win and Eezula closed her eyes in defeat, knowing she had been bested and finding his alternative better than serving the Emperor.

“Fine.”

She refused to slump to the ground from the stinging sensation creeping out of the hole in her shoulder and spreading across her body. Eezula remained steadfast, holding together the final shreds of her dignity.

Maul’s wrist blinked; not the commlink but a homing beacon that had been activated. He didn’t recall using a tracking device however did know of someone who was bold enough to sabotage his personal devices and get away with it.

 _The boy is with her_ , he Forced jumped to the balcony and disappeared behind the case Eezula slipped out of.

Eylanis hummed with intrigue and went to Vos who was examining the archival databanks with intensity.

“What is their relationship? I think I am a bit confused.”

Vos clicked his tongue at the disruption to his concentration, “Móni is his apprentice. That is the extent of my knowledge and all I care to know about it.”

“Such a bore.”

She strode back to Eezula, hardly noticing the wounds, “Do you know who you decided to work for?”

“If I know my brother well enough,” Eezula grunted, “then a crime lord of some sorts.”

“Not as dumb as I think you are.”

“Shut up. At least I didn’t willingly side with the Emperor.”

“Is that why you planned on killing my husband and me?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “You’re no sister of mine if you follow the wretched man’s beliefs.”

Eylanis held a coy smile when she moved along toward Count Baelop who had his sights set on a holoimage. In it, she spotted a tall male who Dryden impeccably resembled.

“Father was friends with our Emperor up until his death.”

Baelop shifted his attention to the younger sibling at that, “Isn’t that why you lot killed him?”

“Oh!” Eylanis clapped. “You knew the whole time. Bravo.”

“You’re twisted. All of you.”

Eezula laughed, long and humorless, “When you’re raised by a mother with severe memory damage and looked upon her children with revulsion or a father who ignored us, I do believe it does affect a child’s mental state.”

“He was trying to protect you.”

“Ha! What a joke,” Eezula made slow steps along the wall, watching Dryden search for something.

“He’s right, though,” Eylanis tapped her face. “Father was trying to protect us from him,” she pointed to Palpatine in the image. “Only thing is, he went about it the wrong way.”

“Here it is!” Vos broke the tension by accessing a datafile and inputting a passcode that opened the wall. “Count, let’s go.”

Baelop powered down the desk and loosely held the blaster rifle at his side, “Am I really going to depend my life on you?”

“You’ve got a weapon to not have to,” Vos countered and held a hand up at Eezula making her way over. “You’re staying here. Let the strormtroopers find you and give your sworn allegiance to the Empire.”

Her groan was a cross between pain and frustration, and glared at Eylanis, “Why are _you_ going?”

“Because I love my big brother,” she held his arm which Vos quickly shook off.

Eezula narrowed her eyes, “What are you up to?”

Vos and Baelop had gone through the passage already, unable to see the wide gleam of a horrifying mystery behind the mask of a simple-minded woman.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” she hushed with a finger over her lips before the wall closed behind her.

Alone with her father’s memories to watch over her, Eezula slumped to the ground, emotionally and physically fatigued. The daughter of a renowned architect, she adopted his artistry and skills to keep the company afloat, have been told several times of her genius; though, it was her only talent. Vos was good with words for negotiations and Eylanis’ mind was well crafted for strategy and deceit. Maybe if she had such things she wouldn’t be in the situation she was in. 

Fast steps were on approach down the hall—the sounds of her life being stolen to work for a man she truly despised.

She smacked her head back against the wall, replaying the brief interactions she had with Durmónia. Eezula could care less about the zabrak but the woman was…

 _Daughter of Zahri_ , she scanned the room she was in, a place she often came to as a child and haven’t been in for several decades. Her focus landed on the chair before the desk where a memory flashed of a bright woman with white teeth and wore a light, yellow dress that popped against her skin. She was the sun and the earth mixed into one, and although Eezula couldn’t remember what the woman said she did remember feeling her kindness.

Durmónia gave off similar energy. One that wasn’t dishonest or unkind… wild though. 

Zahri disappeared along with Count Baelop, that was until he came out from somewhere in deep space and began making appearances again. There was a connection she was not seeing or couldn’t comprehend, and the answers may have well been in the very room she had neglected for so long.

Stormtroopers raided the study and had her surrounded, white light blinding her vision and blasters pointed at her.

“I give myself up,” Eezula sighed. “I give myself to the Empire.”

_To Durmónia._


	7. Tangible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Violence

A hint of wind brushed against her cheek and tugged on loose strands of hair, the first sign of the train finally arriving at the dusky platform of Coruscant’s station in the underworld. Móni held the hood over her face to keep from falling back at the gust that blew past with a long stream of yellow windows and rusted steel rushing into view.

She didn’t take any of the available seats and stood by the exit holding the coat close to her swaying body caused not only by the acceleration and turns but the buzz in her head as well. Móni licked her parched lips for the burning sensation down her throat and get smacked into a state of complete disconnect; forgetting the head of red and white turning slowly at her presence in a restaurant’s clattering cacophony.

Making their way down the aisle was a chadra-fan sniffing at the air, often getting too close to people and raising a stir of muted annoyance at the unwanted proximity. Whatever he had been searching for stopped with Móni and he sucked at his incisors with a disturbing level of enthusiasm.

“Need some uplifters? Maybe relaxants? Or maybe need a rush?”

Móni slid a glance at the creature who barely reached her waist and pursed her lips in thought.

“How much for 15 grams of the dust?”

“315 credits for the finest.”

“315--,” Móni cackled at the absurdity. “You got beskar alloy in there with you too? I’m good.”

“ **Now arriving at Level 3321, Red District,** ” the automated prompter announced throughout the cart.

It was then she felt the prickles of anxiety on her skin from the chadra-fan and his mannerisms turned fidgety.

“I’ll sell it for 295.”

His accelerated sniffs from the pulled back nostrils that were so prominently placed in the center of his small, furred head only dampened Móni’s urges to buy anything from the being at all; not appreciating the pressure.

“I said I’m good.”

The train slowed to a stop, the next platform speeding into view, and the chadra-fan kept distributing his focus between the window and her.

“230!”

“No, guy,” Móni was already considering getting out and switching to another cart.

She followed his line of sight at a group of faceless beings dressed head to toe in heavy leather and armor with blasters raised in preparation to storm the train.

With an exaggerated sigh, she inclined her head, “Let me guess. The underground police are here for you?”

A hairless ear twitched and the chadra-fan slid its black, bulbous eyes to a group of individuals sitting closely together with their heads bowed. One of them, a theelin male, raised slightly and nodded.

“Not for me!” the little imp laughed and shoved a cartridge into Móni’s hands.

“What are you—?”

“This woman has crystalized spice! Crystalized spice!” he alerted the enforcement officers when the doors slid open.

“Crystalized?” Móni gasped. “You were selling me this for 315? That’s a steal!”

“Your loss, sweetheart,” he shoved her forward.

Móni stumbled against an officer’s chest, toppling them into the floor with her.

Running out of the cart was the chadra-fan with a small group of beings and the theelin who smirked at her while she struggled to get back up.

“Grab her!”

A rubber hand grasped her by the wrist and Móni swung a leg from under him, making him fall. The one she was on top of went for her arms, but she head-butted them—rendering them unconscious.

The rest unholstered their blasters and shot stun rays, which she deftly dodged and made a run for it, catching a flash of the theelin’s bright skin turning a corner.

“That bantha scum,” she pursued the gang with high hopes the officers would follow.

Swerving her way past crowds who had been befuddled already by the previous group running through, Móni had the gang in her sights. She noted the blur of crooked signs pointing to a docking bay then looked over her shoulder to check at the officers who were still in pursuit. She slid across the hood of a speeder and made a detour into an alley where she waited in the shadows at the other end of it.

When the familiar chadra-fan whooshed by, she bounced on her heels before taking a lunge at the theelin male and tackled him to the ground.

“Are you going off-planet?” Móni hurried.

“Get off me!” he grunted against her weight and was shocked at the stone grip she had on him.

His gang stopped and surrounded them with blasters raised.

“Move or I’ll blast your head,” a togruta threatened.

Móni stopped to listen closely behind the steam and sputtering vents for the officers’ chatter through their masks.

“You hear that?” she sneered. “I led them right to you. And I can get rid of them just as easily if you take me with you.”

“You crazy wench!” the chadra-fan sucked loudly at his teeth with distress. “You’ll be captured too!”

“Not unless you take me with you.”

She looked closely at the theelin, his green eyes were wide and calculating, and she didn’t like what they may have read. For Móni heard the muted hums of their Force energies colliding, meaning he was no ordinary being. And he, in some sense, could feel neither was she.

“Can you really get rid of them?” he wondered. “All of them?”

“Wanna see?” her confidence rode on the rising smirk.

“They’re almost here. I can hear them,” the chadra-fan panicked. “Blast her! Blast her!”

“No,” the theelin stopped them. “Let’s see what she can do.”

Móni held her position on him, ignoring the protests and the idle threats being tossed around.

She didn’t like him. The theelin. There was a darkness in his aura, not the pristine airs of a Jedi or a distorted murkiness of one who didn’t know they were Force-sensitive. It was in no way the Dark Side, either; Móni’s first experience with one contained a dread meant to kill, and he didn’t have it. Though, she believed there was the possibility she was making introductions with one who was being led down the path.

Up until the last second, Móni finally released her hostage and deftly stole the blaster from the togruta.

“Borrowing this.”

Her first blast hit an officer coming out the alley then charged at the rest, taking advantage of their brief surprise.

Their blasters no longer set to stun, red bolts flew past and she used the officer at the forefront as a shield. She flung the carcass at a group of three before rushing at the final ones.

Móni slid under the rain of red then came up in front of an officer to smash their skull against the wall. Then collided the heads of the remaining two.

“Better get a move on before more come,” she tossed the blaster back to its owner.

The gang stared with slack jaws at the woman who incapacitated a group of police in roughly under one minute. However, the theelin stared on expectedly at Móni.

“Welcome aboard, newbie.”

“Please,” Móni started, “I’m not looking to be part of some boy band.”

“We like to call ourselves a rowdy crew.”

“Sure,” she smacked the chadra-fan’s hands away from her pocket. “The drug’s mine, sleemo. Payment for me being your decoy.”

“Name’s U’lis,” the theelin introduced himself. “Welcome to the Guiltless.”

***

There have been more times in her life than she could count when Móni wished she could disappear. End her existence. Sever herself from the lives of those around her whom she knew could be better off.

The need—the want had never been so prominent than when she stared into the cracks of Kyp’s trust. Their relationship was extinguished with a single, easy blow and the tears she watched fall, the ones she caused, Móni would rather take her chances with Palpatine than stay a moment longer in the presence of someone she admired and loved be torn apart.

“It’s not true,” his face shrunk in contortion to hold in the anguish. “Móni, it isn’t true.”

She shut out the scene in front of her, unable to look him in the eyes any longer, and allowed the suffering to engulf her.

 _Can’t even cry_. The need was there. The sensation. To scream and lash. It never came and that desperation to feel anything other than the emptiness flooded her insides.

“Now,” U’lis began, the vibrato of the saber’s movement striking the soundwaves, “we can finally end this. And Kyp will follow after you and his mother.”

There was an audible snap in her ears. A seal had been severed and there was a rush of rage coursing through her, tightening her muscles and expanding her skin under the pressure of power so immense it could no longer be contained.

“No!” U’lis refused to be subjugated under someone he swore to defeat. To kill and maim until his vengeance was satisfied. “You will die!”

Móni’s finger twitched and his lightsaber didn’t move past his head, his arm caught by the Force. He lifted off the ground when she stood, her humanity lost in the Dark Side and his cries muffled by the dark waters she sunk so deep in.

A cackle filled the lifeless space in her mind and U’lis sighed in the way he usually did when he played-off bad situations as things going the way he planned. Though, Móni sensed behind the distorted memories of his lies and found some truth to his motive.

_‘Going to kill me again? In front of my son? My, how far you’ve fallen my dear Móni.’_

She squeezed tighter, expelling the anger and hoped to find relief at the end of the abyss.

_‘Móni!’_

_Who?_

_‘Móni!’_

_Maul._

_‘Do not lose yourself. You cannot.’_

_Why?_

_‘You are not meant for this.’_

“Móni! Stop!” Kyp’s call was loud and clear.

She was sucked out of the ocean and gasped at the inhale of clarity. U’lis remained suspended beside her, choking on a hold she had not consciously been aware of doing, and dropped him in an instant.

Móni’s breathing hitched and stumbled a step back when she couldn’t recall what had occurred. How he and she had gotten to where they were: her standing above his crumpled form.

“I didn’t—,” she exposed the palms of her hands as if confessing to Kyp—to herself—the blood that was surely on them. “I’m losing control,” she knew and yet couldn’t find the foundation to gain her bearings and get away from U’lis. Various escapes and outcomes merged, unable to form a cohesive thought to strategize. She was utterly lost.

“No,” Kyp murmured to a point over her shoulder. “Dad, no.”

Móni felt it. Heard it. Her end. And she had no desire to stop it.

She turned deaf to Kyp’s scream and welcomed the silence she finally wanted.

Another lightsaber illuminated and halted the one aimed for her neck. And it was not the color she had expected nor the person holding it.

Blue clashed with red and Móni met steely, gray eyes from the older theelin.

“Nyla?”

“Take Kyp and go. Qar-Tan and I will handle him.”

“But—”

Nyla crossed lightsabers with U’lis easily, stopping each flurry of attacks made at her, then Qar-Tan stepped in with blaster raised, shooting a bolt to break his defenses.

“Go, Móni. We got it from here. Not our first time dealing with Imperials.”

The time she needed to process the Jedi who had been in her presence more times than she could count and Qar-Tan’s coordination with her did not exist, nor did she waste a second longer at the chance to escape U’lis’ presence and breathe again.

“Kyp,” he moved away from her reach and it took every bit of strength she had to not be swallowed by the pain of it. “The sooner we leave, the sooner they can make their own escape.”

He avoided eye contact the entire time she spoke and stared at Qar-Tan who had fired another bolt.

“We’ll meet you at the ship,” he reassured.

He didn’t like the only option presented to him, and the hesitance in Kyp expanded when he watched his father’s violent blows against the much smaller being.

“As long as I’m alive you’ll see him again,” Móni pressed with scorn she had no intention of hiding and Kyp stared back with a hatred she had never felt from him before.

The hoverchair, capable of rivaling a human’s top speed, Kyp rushed past her to make sure she was forced to keep up with him while he directed his way through the halls; his father’s cries for Móni fading behind them.

Their speed didn’t stop even with a blockade of stormtroopers in their path. Móni gathered the Force around them and brought it down upon their heads, knocking them flat to the ground and the pressure cracking their armor.

Kyp raised the repulsorlift of his chair over the mangled bodies and turned a corner where he halted before a lift that was spewing more stormtroopers. While Móni covered him with a Force shield against the bolts, he inserted a scomp link from his chair into a computer socket that activated a holoprojection of the estate’s mainframe. With swift speed of his fingers, he took control of the lift where stormtroopers were still inside of and forced it to drop without any breaks—their screams ending with a booming crash.

Móni lifted the remaining troopers toward the high ceiling then brought them down hard to the floor, clearing a path for Kyp toward the empty shaft.

He stopped before it, blinking slowly, then murmured under his breath, “Need to go down a few floors.”

They descended in silence with Kyp being levitated above Móni until he stated for her to stop before a closed door which she tore open with a fist full of the Force.

She set him down in a room filled to the brim with antiquities of various cultures throughout the galaxy and was instantly lured by a display in a transparent casing high on the wall: an energy pike with tribal markings and personalized charms of the Devaronian who once wielded it. Móni judged its age by the cracked wood that decorated parts of its shaft and the rusting of the tri-edged spearhead.

 _Several thousand years_.

Then wondered at what point did Vos acquire such a weapon that only those of her mother’s clan wielded.

Kyp continued past the warehouse of treasures, already well ahead of Móni to reach the other side.

“Kyp,” she flew to his side to match his pace with ease. “Can I—can I talk?”

“You can do whatever you want.”

_Better than nothing…_

“I know you thought U’lis was getting better at handling the Dark Side inside of him. But you know how he puts on a show and pretends everything is okay in front of you. In front of me.”

He stopped abruptly, almost to the point where his body slid off the seat, “Is that your reason? Because you thought he was a lost cause!”

“I couldn’t bring him back. Your mother couldn’t. No one could. He was getting violent when we went to scavenge supplies or parts to sell. He hit some of the crew members at times. He even tried starting fights with me!”

“Seems like there was a lot you kept from me. Like you killing my only parent.”

“That wasn’t what I intended to happen. What I did—”

“What _did_ you intend? You thought getting rid of him would make my life easier? I knew what he was… is. I was the one who had to live with him. I was the one who suffered from his pain and hate with Mom. But we loved him,” his lips trembled, and eyes glistened with water. “Despite it all, we cared because we also saw those moments where it was the Dad who was once a Jedi. Who gave up his life in the Order for Mom.”

“I’ve seen those moments of U’lis too. But,” Móni struggled with her next choice of words. “But he was afraid. He was afraid he failed you as a father and he was afraid of not doing enough, and when he did try it only pushed him further into this spiral of helplessness. He,” she licked her lips, knowing Kyp would be unprepared to hear what she always dreaded him knowing, “almost gave up and searched for outlets to send you away to live a life he thought was better than with him.”

“No,” he was quick to deny and started the hoverchair across the warehouse. “He wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re right, he wouldn’t. But I had to confront him which led to an argument in the middle of a heist, which then led to a fight and everything went downhill from there,” she shook away the memory that would lead to the final moments of her transgression.

The hoverchair slowed to a stop then spun around for Kyp to take a good, long look at Móni. The Force rippled around him and in it touched upon her guilt and self-loathing. How much she regretted her actions and how much pain she was in for hurting him. How much she loved him. From his study of her feelings, he remembered the type of being she was and how she was so ready to take the fall for anything she did. Always looking at herself in ways others never did.

“Móni,” he edged closer to her, searching for the underlying truth to it all, “what aren’t you telling me?”

“I—,” broken pieces of what transpired crossed her vision—a mess of what happened and what she thought had happened.

From across the way the hangar bay doors yawned open for a unit of troopers dressed in black and the one leading wore a red pouldron with an electrohammer buzzing blue in their hands.

“Not good,” Kyp hovered back and illuminated a holomap. “Keep them occupied while I look for another way out.”

“Never seen stormtroopers like these before.”

“Neither have we,” he inched his way to a discreet corner behind an obelisk chiseled with runes and an armillary sphere spinning in a gravity field.

“Right,” Móni extended her hand and recalled the energy pike from its shattered case and twirled it around as if it were an extension of herself. “Let’s do this.”

The commander sliced the air with a hand and the troopers behind him aimed their blaster rifles at the pointed target.

She swerved between the barrage of red needles, blocking some with the Force or deflecting them back—all of which did little damage to their resistant armor. Móni pressed forward, calling onto an over two meter-tall statue of an unknown sentient to tip over them, forcing their break in formation.

Her first victims were those who had a different armor variation to their commander, with a green tint in their visors and their helmets having a closer resemblance to a stormtrooper’s. Maintaining distance between herself and them, she swung the pike by the end of its shaft and aimed for their throats. Contact was made but the rusted blade only went as far as to tear the weaker shielding at their necks.

“Too dull.”

Móni stomped forward for a firm foundation then spun her body, bringing momentum into her swing, and a combination with some added strength, opened their throats—their wounds gaping and shredded from the rusted blade.

The wind sang with more bolts and she halted them before angling them at a stone slab with painted figures and had it crumble over more of the troopers.

Her arm and leg burned from blaster fire behind her and she tossed the pike further up her hand, cranked her arm back, then sliced the air with the spear and directly through a trooper’s head—the spearhead cracking the flooring. Móni tilted away from a bolt then slammed the remaining trooper to the ground, sliding them across the floor and into another group of his comrades who were making their way toward her.

Some were agile to jump over and tossed a grenade, aiming for a full fossil rendering of some ancient creature suspended above her.

The display exploded and its bones collapsed onto her, some of the fragments cutting her skin, but she held the massive skull of the aquatic-like animal with the Force. Her arms now occupied with keeping her alive, the commander came running with their glowing hammer ready to slice at flesh.

_Calm down.Calm down.Calm down._

Móni concentrated on a splinter of bone, picturing her control of it in the mind’s eye to pierce the incoming trooper through their visor, but was shot in the arm again—disrupting her focus. She hopped back from a swing then rose off the ground, gaining the advantage of knowing the remaining trooper’s location across the warehouse, and hurled the skull upon a small group.

“Kyp!”

Two discovered his location with blasters raised, but blue sparks lit the area and their bodies dropped to the ground. Kyp emerged from hiding and glided across the battle strewn floor to the hangar bay doors.

“Where are you going?” Móni flew to his side and Forced pushed a trooper away.

“More are coming in this way,” he explained with annoyance, the acidity of her lies still fresh on his tongue. “Have to lock it before we move on.”

“Wouldn’t we be trapped in here?”

“I found another way out.”

She collided two black helmets, knocking the soldiers unconscious, while Kyp inserted a scomp link from his hoverchair into a computer port.

The remaining commander holstered the electrohammer onto his back and took a dead trooper’s rifle, extending its barrel and aimed for Móni who rolled under the successive shots. She recalled the energy pike and closed their distance, the enemy switching back to his hammer and struck the ground, creating a shockwave.

Móni called a marbled monument as a shield to block the attack from reaching Kyp, the ancient, yet sturdy, material capable of withstanding the wave. She soared over the monolith, the pike’s spearhead angled down and came upon the commander who held his ground—prepared for her onslaught.

Their weapons clashed and he carried Móni’s weight, throwing her over. He wasted not a second and swung the hammer behind him, but she flipped out of its range then swung her pike, which had a far longer reach to make contact. However, he was quick to reposition his weapon and block the attack, the electric wave sending vibrations up the shaft and to her arms.

The pike awoke from its slumber of a millennium, the blade glowing a hue of soft blue and withstanding the electrohammer’s energy. Móni glided up the shaft, putting more strength into the spearhead and pushing the commander back.

At a deadlock, him unable to resist the immense pressure and she incapable of releasing her hold without being bludgeoned immediately after, the vehemence in their stares were shared—neither willing to back down.

However, Móni shut out her opponent, concentrating on his mass in her mind’s eye and gathering the Force around her. Thinking she had given him the advantage he ran his hammer up the pike for the final blow but shuttered under the bright intensity in her unveiled eyes and was sent flying back by an invisible force.

Móni sped to him before his back landed on the ground, stopping just beneath his falling form, then raised the glowing energy pike. The spearhead ran through the armor like a lightsaber cutting easily into flesh and the commander’s body slid down the shaft protruding through his chest.

She tossed the body to the side and watched the hangar bay doors lock shut and Kyp overload the computer.

“Where to?”

“We wait,” he spun away toward the warehouse’s center and looked expectantly at a sealed entrance behind the mezzanine overhead.

Móni stamped the pike’s end to the ground, holding the only thing of comfort to her as she let its energy run through her head—remembering how her mother’s felt when it would come to life before a hunt.

 _I lost him_ , over and over the reality of her consequences dropped on her. How she may never again be able to reclaim the trust of someone she loved more than her life. The pain was insurmountable and clung to her chest, unable to be freed.

She couldn’t bear to lose anyone again.

The door above slid open and Qar-Tan and Nyla came through, no worse for wear on their slight bruising and tired faces. Kyp’s face lit some when he spotted his partner give a grin and searched for the staircase to meet him as soon as possible.

Then Móni’s breaths halted when another presence made itself known behind them, coming out with eyes gleaming at her direction with an emotion she dared not decode. She bowed her head further, unprepared to face another person she had failed; disappointed perhaps at her inability to control herself during a delicate operation.

There was a soft flutter of fabric at his fast descent over the railing followed by a delicate strike of metal against metal when he made his way over—cybernetics whirring after every footfall.

His shadow enveloped her hunched form and his rhythmic breathing was heard over the dead silence surrounding them, then there was an intake of air.

“Móni.”

She raised her head in surprise at the low timbre in his voice, the concern that was etched in it. The relief.

He searched her face, considering the bruising she felt on her cheek and lips, then the carbon wounds on her skin he openly expressed his alarm over.

Maul was not completely unscathed either, minor scrapes could be seen from their proximity across his chin and forehead.

“Doesn’t hurt much,” she commented and wanted to continue the thought with an ‘I’m fine’ but knew better than to lie.

A growl erupted from him and Móni blinked her confusion at the unsolicited anger.

“Do not deceive me,” he stared right through her barriers and seized her at the core. “Your pain is immense.”

-

She was drowning so far into the depths of her despair Maul feared he may have lost her for good this time.

He blocked a bolt then sent an explosion of the Force at the group of stormtroopers, stumbling them back and allowing him the opportunity to shorten the distance with a twirl in the air followed by a single swing to sever their heads.

The seconds between each blink of the tracking beacon shortened.

 _They’re close_ , she was close.

Maul moved down another corridor, his cape billowing around him from the speed when he was shocked to a standstill at a darkness he had not felt since his confrontation with Sidious years ago. It was powerful and filled with rage, and for a moment his hearts jumped to his throat at the possibility of it being _him_. _Here_. To take her away.

 _No…_ , there was a familiarity to the sensation; a sun that had been eclipsed by the Dark Side.

 _Móni_.

The tracking beacon was ultimately ignored, and Maul followed her feelings. Her blinded rage that masked the woman he apprenticed and gotten to know. It was ultimately the Force wielder he wished for her to become, but it felt wrong.

_It’s not her._

He reached a dead end, a painting of a member of the Vos family staring back at him with eyes that looked to mock at his incompetence. Maul snarled back before tossing the massive frame out of his way then placed a hand to the wall to search for a connection with the woman who was being pulled away from him beyond the barrier of paint and steel. He dipped into the Force’s veil, stretching his feelings and reaching hers—grabbing her in his clutches and calling to her.

_Do not lose yourself. You cannot._

_‘Why?’_

There wasn’t quite a reason was there? He only knew—understood—her wishes to not be a Dark Side user. How much it meant for her to be unshackled of the strict rules on how the Force should be manipulated. It was her unique use of it that drew him to her in the first place and how incredibly powerful she was before her apprenticeship. Maul in no way could comprehend what she was, but he may have been struck with a realization of what her apprenticeship with him meant. That he was in some small way part of her destiny.

_You are not meant for this._

An exhale of relief at the lifting burden of tempering the ferocious use of Force eased Maul’s worries then searched for a way around the barricade between them.

The hum and clash of lightsabers were his guide to the last location the tracking beacon made consistent flashing before returning to a steady tempo. When he rounded the corner, he did not expect to see blue clashing with red and the small, old theelin female to be at the end of a Jedi’s saber.

Immediately there was the ire of treachery of Móni lying to him about having a Jedi in their midst for so long. But even he never distinguished her presence when in their company after Gigor. She purposefully hid amongst them, especially since her kind was mercilessly being tracked by the Empire.

_And it explains the boy’s training._

Taking advantage of their duel as a distraction to continue, Maul glided by unnoticed.

“Move aside!” the Inquisitor bellowed. “Tell me where Móni is and I’ll spare my son. I can feel everyone’s attachment to him. But for _you_ , it’s unbecoming of a Jedi. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Maul picked up on the voice, the way it dipped in certain words then rose again with mockery was like the one he heard in a holorecording. And the helmet’s shape that accentuated a theelin’s horns only proved his suspicions further.

“You,” he growled low to the iktotchi who had been concentrating fire on the Inquisitor to break their defenses and attack.

Qar-Tan moved back behind the narrow cover and gasped audibly. He followed Maul’s glare directed at Nyla then spoke in rapid-fire, “Móni had no idea. Nyla didn’t want to her know. Blame us if you need to.”

“Who is the Inquisitor? How does he know Móni by that name?” he turned a blind eye to the subject, putting it away to be broached at another time.

“That’s,” Qar-Tan aimed at the Inquisitor’s feet, breaking the footwork, “U’lis.”

The name of someone he never met struck a chord with an impact there was no way of telling where it stemmed from. Feeling through the male’s Dark Sided shrouds, the hatred was focused on a singular origin, groomed and well-practiced, as if he had been waiting for this moment his whole life. A sentiment Maul experienced when he obsessed over his singular hatred for Kenobi—still did at times.

“Was she here?”

“Just now? Yeah. Giving them time to escape before we go too,” he displayed the array of smoke grenades on his utility belt.

_Escape?_

Móni was more than capable of meeting an Inquisitor’s skill with or without a lightsaber.

 _Unless_ , he was the source of the suffering. The father of the child she cared for no longer dead, but alive.

Maul strode across the long hall, steps heavy against the marble, closer to the duel between Light and Dark and eyes only for the Inquisitor. He illuminated his own blades and stepped between them, blocking an attack to lock onto the parasite who had latched onto Móni’s thoughts.

“Oh?” U’lis exaggerated his shock. “And who might you be?”

“Maul,” the Jedi was quick to speak her thoughts, much to Maul’s displeasure. “You cannot kill him. This is not our battle to fight.”

“Maul,” U’lis sighed as if the pieces somehow fit together for the first time. “She never did use the Force when I knew her, so you must be her master.”

A growl ripped through his chest and Maul lunged forward, angling their lightsabers to the floor, but U’lis followed his action; not giving him the satisfaction of breaking their standoff and pressed their shoulders together. Then a laugh that mocked pierced his ear.

“Didn’t do much with her, did you? She was pathetic; a testament to your abilities as a Sith. No wonder you were cast aside, First Apprentice.”

Rage flooded his vision, shaking his body and tightening the grip on the hilt of his saber. A scream exploded from his throat and shoved U’lis aside to make a combo of swings that were dodged with hops and flips.

“Your skills are hardly worth gloating about,” Maul circled U’lis, strategizing his next move. “Your lot are only half-trained in the arts of the Dark Side. The Inquisitorious are a legion of pretenders whose abilities only go as far as your master wills them to go,” he spun his lightsaber into form. “What you know is merely a taste of the power he will never allow you to have.”

U’lis bit back his frustrations and pretended to not have been bothered by the low blow, “Whatever I know is enough to bring the harpy down and claim my revenge for her killing me. Betraying me.”

Sorrow weaved into the slight shutter in his voice, but it meant nothing to Maul; all he knew was how much he wanted him dead. He twirled his lightsaber and clashed several times with U’lis and met at a deadlock again, their faces bordered by a glow of red.

“A dead creature walking, then,” Maul sneered. “A shame Móni couldn’t kill you properly.”

U’lis shoved back and made quick successions of a flurry of movements, his techniques agile and precise, “I should have gotten rid of her the moment I found her instead of taking in a worthless scrap from the junkyard.” He Force pushed Maul back several meters then jumped for the kill.

Maul was able to keep his connection to the floor and not be lifted, giving him ample time to spin out of the attack then slice at air when U’lis dodged.

“You planned on training her?” Maul snorted. “Laughable.”

“No,” U’lis gripped tightly onto the hilt with the circular hand guard that had become the Inquisitorious defining trait. “Use her. Not much different than what you’re doing with her, am I right?”

U’lis’ pretentiousness riled the bowels of Maul’s newfound hatred for the Sith pretender who put a new angle on how he saw himself with Móni. To be compared to the likes of someone who saw nothing but a weapon in their sights, how he struggled time after time to see her as thus. A detestation swelled in Maul and it wasn’t toward anyone outside himself. It was deep and within, the guilt swirling with regret of how he once viewed her—how similar he was with the being before him.

_Similar to Master._

An explosion of fury escaped him in a shout and Maul held nothing back when he attacked with a vengeance until U’lis’ defenses were no longer capable of withstanding such a force. He was beaten back against the wall and angled his head away from a strike that melted steel instead. With a second's advantage granted to him, he shoved Maul away from him with a foot then rounded at him with a kick to the head.

Maul blocked with a forearm before it struck and swung the body away, then followed up with a knee that scraped under the chin.

U’lis’ helmet flew off and half the face that was lethally scarred was numbed to certain movements in the mouth and eye, while the clearer side perfectly expressed the rage spewing from eyes tainted by the Dark Side.

He touched under his chin and rubbed his blood between his fingers, white teeth shined with malice, “Didn’t like what I said?”

Maul’s lip quivered from the words caught in his tight throat; unable to be released in any coherence from the myriad of feelings clashing inside him. He lifted U’lis with the Force and held the choking being in place.

“She is more than anything you could ever understand.”

The desperate chokes quieted, and the struggles ceased. They stared long and hard at one another, U’lis reading much more than what Maul could understand about himself and released a broken cackle with a constricted neck that tightened.

A small, wrinkled hand was placed on Maul’s arm and he glowered at the Jedi’s touch.

“This is Móni’s and Kyp’s fight. Killing him now will not help her. She needs to face him herself.”

“This does not concern you, Jedi,” he threatened.

“No,” she agreed. “But the boy does, and his pain is linked to this monster. You know very well how connected he and Móni are and this is a battle I’m afraid we are not meant to solve for them.”

He itched to tighten further and hear the snap of a neck or the final breaths escape from the lungs, and Maul’s final verdict relied heavily on doing the opposite of what the old female was asking simply because of what she was.

“The boy means nothing to me,” he said with finality and squeezed harder.

“But _she_ does,” desperation hung at the end of her words but the omniscience in her wide, gray irises saw through him in the same way U’lis did. “If you care for her then you know what must be done.”

His grip slipped along with his violent intentions leaning toward the Jedi who talked the way they all did, pompous and noble, as if they held the answers to everything. As if they _knew_ him when there was only one person in the universe whom he allowed to see into his spirit—allowed to weave herself into his very being.

 _I need to find her_ , the need had never been so urgent before. Beyond the endangerment of being sought out by the Empire and her unfocused feelings, Maul wasn’t convinced of anything unless she was physically present at his side.

In the sun-bright mist of her image in his mind’s eye, he didn’t sense the marching unit of black-armored troopers set into formation and open firing at them.

“We gotta go!” Qar-Tan beckoned the Jedi to his cover.

Making use of the chaos, U’lis lifted his fallen lightsaber and aimed at Maul who dropped his Force hold on him.

With the barrage of bolts and the Inquisitor making every effort to kill, Maul was held on the defensive until a smoke bomb rolled between his feet. He leaped back before an explosion of a gray cloud masked his escape with the Jedi and iktotchi.

“You’re making a mistake, Maul!” U’lis’ snide voice carried down the corridor. “She’s using you just like she used me!”

‘ _Her feelings aren’t real_ ,’ the faintest whisper of his consciousness traced Maul’s mind.

Qar-Tan led them through the estate, following the same tracking beacon that continued to blink on Maul’s wrist. Every so often the old Jedi would glance over her shoulder, checking on her mortal enemy who lagged and was unnaturally complacent.

There were many questions revolving around her relationship with U’lis, but what he connected—the unbridled hatred, the familiarity when he pronounced her name, and the pain mixed with the chaos:

 _They were close once_ , and she betrayed him.

Móni had been Maul’s apprentice for just over two years and they’ve been through emotional turbulence of events in that duration, some even physical when she fought back against his demands to follow orders. Not once, though, had he questioned her emotions. They were wild. Unbalanced. But they were honest and real. And she had no fear of displaying them openly. Including to him.

His dislike for the disfigured theelin was potent and the aptitude for manipulation was an obvious crutch he leaned on to transform situations to his favor. Maul knew whose side he would always have in this personal battle between father and son and friend, no matter who was at fault. But the tiny murmur looped continuously in his mind, U’lis purposely planting the seed of doubt in Maul’s thoughts. But even knowing what it was, the question remained: were they real?

Once the exit was located and they were met with a massive space filled with contraptions and galactic junk, he felt her in an instant. Below them she stood in a tattered dress, slumped body, and curls no longer neat and defined. He wasted no time to jump to where she was and take in her form, inspecting the dark purple marks on the side of her face and black carbon on her skin. There was an urge to wipe off the blood on her lips and chin, but he clenched his fists tight to focus on the intensity of her anguish that swirled between her and the boy. The source, without question, being the male who suffered along with them.

She stared long and deep at him, taking in every part of himself he could give, and she exhaled softly with relief while resting her head on the shaft of the pike she held close to her.

“It’s good to see you,” she spoke under her breath so only he could hear.

What Maul felt was indescribably gentle and—dare he think it—meant for him only. Every word held sincerity and raised his heart rate. Then the strangest impulse to gather her tired body close to his and absorb her sorrow came.

 _And if they weren’t real?_ Did it matter?

Somehow… it didn’t. What he knew was real was the way she looked at him, bright and lovely, and what he felt in that moment.

Small and quiet, Maul shared himself with her; unfiltered and raw.

“It is always a gift to see you.”

Móni raised her head with mouth agape and the grip on the pike slipped.

“Huh?”

There was a girlish shriek at the warehouse’s opposite end that drew everyone’s attention to Vos with his fingers tangled in his hair.

“What did you do?” he fell to his knees at a broken stone slab, tracing his fingers along the pieces. “My things.”

“Please, Dryden, you’re embarrassing me,” Eylanis kicked a trooper’s body or two out of her way. “You hardly come in here.”

“You,” Vos shoved a nasty point at Móni’s direction, “you did this. I know you did.”

Móni shrugged with zero sympathies, “Not like you’re going to see any of this again. Can’t come back to this estate, I imagine.” She wrapped an arm across his shoulders and patted him with contempt. “I’m sure you have other estates filled to the ceiling with trash.”

“But not this one! And you can’t have that,” he went to take the pike from her hand, but she extended her arm out of his reach.

“This is mine. Although, I’d love to know where you found it.”

“It was given to my father from some woman. Now give it here.”

“What woman?”

“Vos,” Maul ceased their conversation and beckoned him to his side. “Assist the others in finding a way out of this prison.”

The boy had a holomap of the estate displayed from his hoverchair which everyone had gathered round to analyze.

“We were heading to the hangar bay,” Eylanis slid to Kyp’s side, but not before taking an eyeful of Móni with a glint of mystery Maul couldn’t read, and that fact vexed him.

“More Imperials are heading in that way,” Kyp zoomed into the map, pinpointing a new location. “Over here you have an area filled with starships.”

“We can’t use those,” Vos shot down fast. “They are out of order.”

Eylanis scoffed, “Ignore him. Those are just some of his collectibles whose purpose so far has been to be stared at.”

“They are models no one makes anymore!”

“Qar-Tan and I can make any necessary fixes to get it off the ground and into hyperspace,” Kyp ignored the complaints. “Just need you guys to buy us time.”

“We gotta backtrack to the ballroom area,” Qar-Tan traced his finger along the map, the image capturing his touch and forming a line to the space twice the size of where they were.

Kyp swallowed his discomfort, “Should be mostly clear now. Everyone I couldn’t lead to the guest hangar was taken by the Empire.”

The Jedi was close to the boy, putting a hand on his arm and feeling through the emotions that rivaled Móni’s, although, his control over them was far superior. He was angry still, but not to the point of being vindictive. And Móni could not keep her eyes off him, even sensing traces of jealousy toward the Jedi.

Maul took a deep inhale at Móni being the center of the chaos reigning down on them. The very notion alone was yet another weight to add to her emotional burden and she wasn’t as invincible as many believed she was to carry it all at once. He understood too well how deeply she felt for her surroundings. Feeling them all now, perhaps, and how strongly Kyp’s energy struck against hers.

‘ _Am I a weakness?_ ’

He was beginning to understand more her meaning.

Across the way, Baelop had his bulging eyes locked onto Móni, ignoring the rest of the beings who surrounded them. Maul stepped into his line of sight, making sure his glare was what held his attention and not her.

“Let me speak to her,” the Count begged. “Even if it’s only for a few seconds.”

“No,” Maul spoke harshly, stepping further in the rodian’s way to avoid Móni from making any sort of eye contact. “Keep your mouth shut and do as you are told,” he pushed him toward the others

“Is that Count Baelop?” Móni stepped close to him. “Surprised to see him with us. Having trouble getting what you need out of him?”

“Among other things,” he twisted the truth and diverged. “I fought him. U’lis.”

Her body straightened and went rigid, “You killed him?”

“No.”

Móni’s hand slid down the shaft of the pike with dozens of questions shifting between his eyes, “Why?”

A sneer reached his nostril when he eyed the small Jedi, her purple skin wrinkled with the age of time she had been with the Order and the last of her years spent in hiding with a new purpose alongside a Force-sensitive who was far too old to be trained in the Jedi arts.

She could have revealed herself and trained Móni and instead she chose silence and allowed her to be taken by Maul.

 _Why?_ There was no possible way she didn’t get a sense of what she was.

“The Jedi stopped me,” the title dipped to a low and dangerous hum from his chest that had Móni straighten with alarm.

But she dared give him a long side-eye that speculated on his response, “A Jedi told you what to do? Is the Emperor dead too?”

Maul snapped at her, “It seems she has a better grasp of the situation than I do.”

Her nostrils flared and stared him down with a crackle in the air around her, “I thought—”

“I know,” he stopped her from becoming explosive and understanding how… insensitive he was; the delicacy of the matter somewhat beyond him. Things that revolve around personal ties and special bonds. “I know you believed he was dead until now. He spoke much of your betrayal.”

Móni glanced away, “I killed him knowing he had a son waiting for him to come home. Knowing he cared for me and trusted me. This is my chance to make things right. I have to try.”

Her lips trembled but no tears came, and it hurt her to not have some sort of release for the pain.

It hurt him seeing her that way.

“It will not be easy.” Deep in his core Maul saw U’lis as a threat needed to be extinguished immediately, but it won’t help her. In fact, he didn’t know what could and he was utterly helpless to what Móni required of him. This was nothing related to her apprenticeship or to them. For once, he was simply a bystander in her life, but he will offer what he could. Anything he could.

“What do you mean?”

“The Dark Side is not something one can relinquish with ease. It is brutal and unforgiving, and he will suffer through the process.”

“You say it like you’ve tried before.”

“Once…,” he winced at the memory, frayed with age, in the early years of his apprenticeship. “When I did not realize the threat to my life if I disobeyed Master’s will.”

A sizeable mass of lifeforce gathered beyond the hangar bay doors and put every Force-sensitive being in the vicinity on alert.

“We ready to go?” Móni approached Qar-Tan, paying special mind not to overstep her bounds with Kyp.

“Yeah. We’re going back the way Vos and Eylanis came from.”

Baelop edged his way into her peripheral, inciting a growl of warning from Maul which the count suddenly became hard of hearing to; an annoying recurrence with the shrewd old thing.

“Are you the one with Lord Maul?”

Móni nodded with tired politeness, “Yeah, I’m with him. You agreed to partner with us?”

“I have,” he couldn’t stop staring with an adoration Maul knew stemmed from the likeness she had with her mother. “I wouldn’t have agreed, however, if not for you.”

“Me?” she popped an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize I was the ‘influencer’ type. You sure you don’t have me confused with someone else?”

Although his eyes were grayed, they captured some of the light he passed under and sparkled at the humor he seemed so familiar with, “There is no mistaking it, Durmónia. You are her.”

“I’m who?”

“Count,” Maul stepped between them and gnashed at him, “make yourself useful _elsewhere_.”

Baelop was hardly affected and murmured to himself before finding conversation with someone else, “Rather protective aren’t we?”

“I could ask the same thing,” Móni slowed her pace and kept them a distance away from the others who led them through the estate’s hidden passages. “What’s going on with you?”

“I will reveal everything to you once we leave this forsaken place, but first you need to conquer this battle with the boy’s father. The chances of crossing paths with him again are high and your resolve must not falter this time.”

She was somber a moment but Móni fixed her posture and raised her chin with new purpose, “I won’t fail Kyp or you again. I promise.”

“Móni,” his fingers grazed her arm to halt their advancement then pressed a single digit to her forehead. “It is your confidence you must not fail at. More than once you have combated your insecurities and failings with your tenacity, and this time will be no different.”

The bemusement on her face transformed into a puff of laughter, “I could be the end of your syndicate or the stupid galaxy and you’d still believe in me. I thought I was strange, but you’re the strangest one of us all.”

“Because you are my strength.”

“Your weapon. Yes, you’ve told me before,” she rolled her eyes with a sigh.

Maul was stuck in place, staring at the woman who had become much more than what he planned on her ever being to him. He flexed his hands out of their tight fists and proceeded to follow the small group.

What he meant was so much more than he could possibly imagine.

The colorful reflections of the ballroom encased their surroundings, but they were not alone in what was assumed to be an abandoned space littered with empty crystals, lost jewelry, and carbon scoring of the occupation that had long since passed.

U’lis stood in the center, his domination prevalent in the superiority of his smirk and illuminated lightsaber.

Móni’s heels tapped to Kyp then knelt before him, giving him dominion over her.

“Nothing I do or say will ever make things right. I don’t ever expect your forgiveness, but I swear I won’t betray him again. I won’t betray you again.”

He shut his eyes; taking in her words and reflecting on his emotions carefully.

 _How very Jedi of him_ , Maul looked upon the much older theelin with scorn.

“There’s more you won’t tell me,” Kyp’s hand dropped to his lap, his fingers wiggling for her hold. “You think I never noticed how you suffered from sleepless nights, the times you’ve come to see me with new cuts and bruises, and hearing you talk to no one in an empty room? I have a feeling whatever happened has something to do with all that. The thing you kept from Dad. Kept from me. Still do. Whatever it is you’re carrying. What you are.” He shifted his gaze to Maul, “Why you’re with him and why we’re all here with you.”

Móni slid her hand out of his grasp, breathing heavy and fingers tangled into her dress.

“The Whills of the Force.” The Count observed those the daughter of his dear friend affiliated with, intrigued for the most part, and pleased at what he saw—Maul included. “We’ll discuss more when we are free of this place, Durmónia. I may not have all the answers but enough to pass on what your mother would have liked you to know.”

She stood fast, wanting to take hold of something her mother had left behind and never letting go, but a flutter of red and black dropped down beside U’lis and illuminated their red, double-bladed lightsaber.

“I’m afraid, we cannot allow that, Count,” a woman spoke behind a helmet with a glowing red slit for a visor. “You have lived off the Emperor’s good graces long enough. Isn’t that right, Third Brother?”

U’lis spun his blade, arrogance following his slow steps and dripping off his shoulders, “That’s right, Second Sister.”

Maul tossed Móni her lightsaber who extracted the blood-orange blade on contact then kicked off her heels.

“Trust you’ll take care of this, right?” she passed the energy pike to Vos who happily accepted it. “We’ll take care of them, go find a ship and contact Maul when you’re ready.”

“Móni,” Kyp begged for her safety in one glance, but she silenced him by returning his hand to the armrest.

“I’ll do everything in my power to bring him back to you. Now go.”

The female Inquisitor used the Force to zip across the ballroom and block their escape, Nyla raising her blue saber in preparation, but Móni matched her speed and crossed blades with her.

“Not going to dance with me first?” Móni taunted. “Rude.”

The Second Sister scoffed with only a fraction of amusement, “Very well. Bringing you to our master will be an even greater reward than killing a decrepit Jedi.”

U’lis soared above Maul and landed with a strike that was blocked with ease.

“Hello again, Failed Apprentice.”

Lines of disdain marred Maul’s features and they shoved away from the clash, repositioning into their proper forms.

“We will see which of us has failed. The one who follows him or the one who is free of him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	8. Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Violence

They were surrounded with no way of escape. One by one allies fell under the rapid-fire of security droids and the Miners Guild crew member’s bolts. Soon, it was only two beings left under the mess they had gotten themselves into.

“We’re done for, U’lis,” Móni accepted sweet defeat—pinned between a wall and crates full of the bene mineral they had initially come for and sell to the highest bidder. Now it was their last line of defense. “No way out of this one this time.”

“You’re just happy to have the opportunity to finally die since you can’t do it yourself.”

Móni bore a sharp canine and molars, ready to snap her jaws shut on an artery, “Then you should have no problem leaving me here and saving your own skin.”

He popped out of cover and shot a few bolts before ducking again, “You know I can’t do that.”

“Of course, you can. Easy enough for you to abandon Kyp. Why not me too?”

“I had to do it! You’re in no state to take care of him. You’re an alcoholic and a drug addict. And I—,” he sunk further to avoid the bolts aiming closer to his head. “I can’t do it anymore.”

“You’re pathetic. And, correction, I’m just an alcoholic now.”

“I’m not strong enough to protect him anymore, Móni. I’ve abandoned the Jedi Code and I’ve abandoned myself. There’s nothing left for him to love anymore.”

“It’s not up to you to decide. Kyp is more than capable of taking care of himself and making his own decisions. He’s not weak like me and you.”

“No. No, he’s not.”

The blaster in his hand became heavy and he dropped alongside it, shoulders quaking and face covered with shame, “What have I done?”

As she stared at the crumpled form, Móni only harbored envy for her partner, friend, and enemy. How easily he was able to let everything out when she had been trapped inside her shell for years.

She heaved the body of the chadra-fan she despised and searched his utility belt for any ammunitions they could use for their final efforts.

“Well one of us has to get back to him and not sell him off to some sleaze bag.”

“You mean, you?” he sniffed.

A grenade dropped by their feet and Móni tossed it back as quickly as it came, an explosion erupting along with various shouts of surprise.

“You, U’lis. I mean you,” she clipped the remaining smoke bombs to her belt and pulled a fallen beam toward her. “You’re a pathetic degenerate who thinks power is the only means to protecting Kyp and when you don’t have that going for you, you sell him off and clean yourself of the guilt of how powerless you think are.”

Móni fired several shots along the beam’s center and tore it in half with a grunt of effort, “Did you forget why you left the Order in the first place? Isn’t it the same reason we’re here, now, in this shavit show? The only thing Kyp needs from you is your love. But you’ve forgotten what it was like to feel that way when your fears of being able to protect him or not took over.”

She shoved the blaster into his chest then gripped his collar to bring his face close to hers, “You have your faults, but Kyp was the best thing you and Nuit brought into this galaxy. Don’t screw it up.”

She smashed her lips against his, harsh and filled with spite, then shoved him off.

“We’re getting out of here.”

***

The Second Sister was fast and agile. Every strike held purpose, every twist was calculative, and in the short spurts of their separation after a strong collision, she always stood tall with a regality that exuberated power. She clung to her suffering and pain like a lifeline and it was what gave her the passion to match Móni’s strength.

“We can end this quickly if you come along quietly, you know?”

Móni sent a Force push to deter the Sister, but she held her ground against it and proceeded forward, completely unaffected.

“Your combat skills are good but should probably work a little more on the whole recruitment thing. Not really selling it to me.” 

“You are mistaken,” the smear of her smile was heard in her educated accent. “We are not here to recruit you into our ranks. Master has better uses for you.”

“Which are?”

“Come along and find out.”

“See? Not selling it.”

Móni clashed against the Second Sister, sparks of orange and red mirroring off the Inquisitor’s helm, their speed nearly impossible to catch with the naked eye, but it was she who was directing their movements to the ballroom’s center where Maul was dueling U’lis.

U’lis dragged his lightsaber across the floor, sending up dust of shimmering debris at Maul who simply Force pushed the cloud back at him.

“You’ll regret protecting her,” he wiped at his face. “She’s not worth the trouble.”

“Do you know what she is, then? Has _Master_ told you?” Maul reversed the manipulation and dug into the source of why they were there for her to begin with. To spare so much resources for a single woman who could barely repair a ship, let alone fly one very well.

“Doesn’t matter,” U’lis glowered as he shortened the distance in a spurt of energy followed by a slash which was dodged. “She’s a dead woman.”

Their lightsabers made contact several times, each blow landing on a block or swiping at air.

“Disobeying your master’s orders,” Maul rumbled with ridicule. “Such actions lead to torture if I remember correctly. Even death.”

“I’m not afraid to die. Neither is she,” U’lis lifted an empty crystal with the Force and hurled it against Maul’s head.

Maul however halted it halfway between making contact and closed his hand into a fist, crushing it into pieces, and maneuvered the fragments toward the theelin’s already disfigured features.

The atrocity of his face sent U’lis into a manic fury and lost his focus with the Dark Side, allowing it to consume too much and take control. His endless flurries of attack ceased in an instant when he was lifted into the air then had his back slammed against the ground.

“Móni is not the person you once knew.”

He coughed a chuckle, “The pain. Suffering. Anger. She hasn’t changed. We were drawn to each other’s misfortunes; still are.” U’lis choked on his laugh when Maul pressed harder, “Was it the eyes that drew you to her? Lovely isn’t she?”

Maul’s blood turned cold at the diction and what resided within it. The smirk on the good half of his rose complexion with silver droplets and the enthrallment in his eyes triggered an inferno starting at the stomach and traveled to his throat that was set to explode then eradicate the male beneath him.

“A master and an apprentice,” U’lis mocked. “Scandalous.”

“Maul!” Móni guided the Second Sister to his location. “Switch!”

He shook under the stress of quieting U’lis’ life forever, ignoring the Jedi’s ignorance and Móni’s wishes. They hoped for his salvation and refused to abandon him when he was beyond saving anymore.

 _He doesn’t deserve to live_ , it made no sense.

“Maul!”

 _What would it mean if I killed him?_ Móni wasn’t one who forgave easily, especially to herself. She had nowhere else to go since she swore her apprenticeship to him.

 _Apprentice_ , the title had diluted over the years. Master as well. It wasn’t what they were. Hadn’t been for a very long time and it only occurred to him then.

The strangulation was severed.

“Big mistake,” U’lis called the lightsaber that was lost, illuminated it with the Force, and aimed for Maul’s back.

Maul made no movement for Móni halted it with her own abilities and cut the hilt in half, then he swirled around her to parry the Second Sister’s approach.

“If it isn’t the First Apprentice,” she drawled smoothly. “What an honor.”

“Spare me your glib remarks,” Maul was finding the Inquisitors’ overconfidence to be excessive and dull. Their deniability of being petty servants to Master, and not true Siths was becoming laughable, “You are a simple Jedi who lost their place in the galaxy once your Order was eradicated and resorted to the Dark Side to survive.”

“You know nothing about me,” it seemed he struck a small nerve. Her connection with the Order still raw.

“No,” he spun his lightsaber, “nor do I care to know.”

-

Eylanis held the best qualities of her older siblings and more, however, these skillsets were kept under wraps; hidden under the guise of a pampered and starstruck woman who had everything she desired at her fingertips. No one suspected the torment that brewed under the fair skin, caused by her mother’s woes and father’s disregard. Both victims of a man no one could touch.

The theelin boy her sister hired was in a ship Vos had yet to cease his rambles about its worth over. The iktotchi was under its belly, tweaking at its parts, with the count over his shoulder to offer any assistance he could. Then there was the Jedi who stepped around outside the ship, scanning for any deficiencies in need of repairs, her gaze sliding toward Eylanis with distrust.

 _A problem_.

She adjusted the bracelet on her wrist, selecting a commlink underneath then proceeded toward the count.

“May I speak with you alone for a moment?”

He withheld a groan, “Why?”

“It’s about Durmónia and Zahri.”

The names lured him behind another starship—elongated, sleek, glistening, inoperable—and a barrier between the other’s eyes and ears.

“What is this about?” he wasn’t fooled but he grasped at the connections he desperately sought again.

“Do you know what happened to Zahri? Her disappearance?”

Baelop’s lips twitched with discomfort, “I do. At least in part. You are leading me to something. Out with it and let’s be done.”

“Do you also know what happened to my mother? How she became the way she was?”

He unfolded his arms, ruminating over his response, “I believe I do.”

“She had her lucid moments. We all thought it was part of her dementia, but Eezula and I realized not everything was all crazy talk. She spoke of _him_. What he had done. She knew things he didn’t want her to know. Things related to a dead woman you are still in love with.”

“What is your point, Eylanis?” his voice raised. “If you know who was behind everything then why kill your father? Why betray your sister? They were against Sheev as well.”

“Father became violent from his anger and depression, and my siblings suffered one too many times from his episodes. And Eezula doesn’t understand that we need to work with the enemy to understand the enemy. She thinks she can find ways to remain sovereign under his rule which would only get her killed. No, we need to destroy him from the inside.”

“And where is my place in this? I assume this is the point you’re trying to make?”

“You served him. Blindly,” her jaw went tight, and the disguise fell away into a savage creature. “So many years and you did nothing and helped build his Empire.”

“He gave me no choice. I was his prisoner!”

“You’re the biggest traitor of us all.”

She pulled a pin from her hair, the tip heated red, and stabbed it into an artery in his neck.

“Eylanis?”

She clicked her tongue with an eye roll and let the count fall with a thump.

“What, Dryden?”

He held his hands out to the being who was barely breathing but did nothing to help or check the wound.

“This cannot be happening,” he dragged his nails down his face. “I’m a dead man for sure.”

“He was useless.”

“Not to me he isn’t. Wasn’t,” Vos boomed. “What possessed you to do it?”

“I have my reasons. Most importantly, the Emperor wanted him dead, so I just gained better favor in his eyes.”

“Of course, it was for you. What about me, Eylanis? Hm? _I_ needed him alive.”

Baelop shifted some and slipped out a murmur Vos bent close to hear.

“What’s going on here?” the old Jedi peered under the ship’s bow and called her lightsaber to hand when the count’s body was visible. “What’s the meaning of this?”

Eylanis glowered at the little thing when a shadow appeared followed by the iktotchi’s shouts about Imperials.

The Jedi noticed too late what awaited her or the lightsaber’s deathly red glow.

-

“U’lis—,” Móni was interrupted by a Force push she directed away with a simple wave of her hand. “U’lis, listen to me.”

“What do you want from me?” he groaned, pulling himself backward along the floor.

“I want to help.”

“You can’t help me. Either join us or kill me. There are no other options.”

When he felt she got too close he attempted a Force stasis that paralyzed her briefly before she broke out of the hold without effort.

He heaved a dry laugh, “Were you always this powerful?”

“Yes. I never really admitted it to myself or believed it, but you’ve always known haven’t you?”

“I have.”

She knelt beside him, examining the scar on his face and the other parts that changed over the years, including the eyes that were no longer a vivid green and surrounded by lines of wear.

“Why did you become an Inquisitor, U’lis? If you survived why didn’t you come back to Kyp?”

“When you dropped me into the molten furnace, my body didn’t die but you killed whatever part of me was left that Kyp knew.”

Yellow seared red with hatred and the Force squeezed around Móni’s neck, but she did not resist.

“I’m sorry.”

“You promised to get me out and see my son again.”

“I know.”

“You left me,” he broke into a sob.

“I did.”

He shook his head and dropped his hold on her, “Kill me. If I return empty-handed again Lord Vader will do it anyway.”

“I’m not leaving this time. Kyp is waiting for you.”

“Don’t you understand?” he bared his teeth with frustration, “I made my choice. This is who I am and what I’ve always been. Even when I was in the Order there was this fear that latched onto me like a shadow that refused to leave my side. Nuit was the only one who knew how to temper it, but there was only so much of my burdens she could take on her own.”

“It’s never too late. I thought—I thought it was too late for me to be anything more than a survivor who was tired of existing. I want to live, U’lis. For Kyp and for myself. And I believe there’s a chance for you as well if you take it.”

“He was right. You’re not the Móni I knew.”

She blinked at who he referred to and cleared her throat from the mild embarrassment, “Still can’t fix a thing to save my life but can fix a great meal.”

A smile broke past the mask of a Sith and revealed a small part of the person Kyp believed existed.

“He won’t stop,” U’lis faced her fully, the fear Móni had known him to always have stronger than ever. “Master Sidious will never stop until he finds you. You are essential to everything he is working toward.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“You are his catalyst to a realm beyond the Living Force. Beyond the Cosmic.”

Móni dug her nails into the dark fabric around his arm for the answers she had been seeking her whole life. But U’lis was yanked out of her hold and slid across the floor before being suspended for all to witness. With their arm raised was a paled faced pau’an who had red tattoos that bled out of his golden eyes and was escorted by a unit of the black-armored troopers holding Kyp, Qar-Tan, and Dryden hostage. The others, however, were not amongst them.

The Second Sister retrieved the lightsaber that was disarmed by Maul earlier and sped to the pau’an’s side.

“You know how to take your time, Grand Inquisitor.”

“A mild setback with our informant,” he said coolly yet the anger was aflame in his eyes as he stared at U’lis squirming in the air. “She needed assistance dealing with the Jedi.”

Second Sister hummed her approval and followed the Grand Inquisitor’s line of sight, “What would you like to do with him?”

He retrieved the lightsaber from his back and illuminated one end of it.

“No!” Móni advanced toward them, taking in Kyp’s quivering shoulders and wide stare at his father.

Before there was time to think, to save him, U’lis flew into the Grand Inquisitor’s blade—his body tossed at Kyp’s feet.

The Grand Inquisitor’s sharp, jagged teeth flashed naturally as he spoke behind a tempered smirk, “Cooperate, Miss Durmónia, and the boy will be spared.”

 _This is it,_ the lightsaber clattered to the floor then she fell to her knees. _This is as far as I go_.

“Móni! No!”

“Ah, ah,” The Second Sister aimed her lightsaber at Kyp, stopping Maul from going any further. “Another step and his head flops.”

Maul was no stranger to a Sith’s tactics for manipulation and this was no bluff, the father’s execution an obvious statement of the lengths they’ll make to take her away. And he saw Sidious’ meticulous orchestration from the moment U’lis was involved. His purpose meant to weaken her will and have a broken tool returned to him to be mended in the way he saw fit for his designs.

She wouldn’t dare risk the boy’s life for her freedom… or for him. Her priorities have never been the syndicate, it was always Kyp’s safety and comfort at the forefront of her mind and she hated herself for being the one who put his life in jeopardy—the Empire always at her tail, searching for her.

The long, steel hilt creaked in his hand and his muscles were sore from the tension that hasn’t eased since Kyp’s appearance.

_They won’t take her. They can’t have her._

To make for their escape meant the boy dying and he would truly lose her forever. Then there was making his own escape, leaving them behind to continue his duties with the syndicate—starting fresh with new solutions to build it back up again.

Her mess of curls masked her features, but Maul felt her sinking through the floor, past the earth, and into the planet’s core where she saw no end or beginning. His flight instincts were nonexistent and, instead, what he felt so strongly was how he wanted to go down together with her.

The Force’s weight was pressurized from a source he first thought to be from Móni, but it was further away, in the direction where the Inquisitors were who also twitched from the sizeable sensation.

Móni jolted to life, “Kyp.”

The Force exploded and the Grand Inquisitor and Second Sister were hurled meters away from Kyp and their unit.

What transpired occurred slowly. In a blur of confusion and hysteria. The troopers angling their blasters, the Inquisitors soaring overhead, U’lis inching for his son with the remainder of his strength, a blue lightsaber cutting down bodies from behind, Dryden extracting two double-bladed knuckle guards and slicing at the troopers, and Maul—Maul knowing exactly what to expect when a single bolt, crisp and clear, put a black hole in Kyp’s chest.

It was the last thing Móni heard before the world was muted by the Force billowing around her and seizing every trooper in the vicinity. Their brain activity and fear pulsed in her palms, then she curved her fingers closed—the armor bending under her will. Some clawed at their heads and fingers dug under their helmets to pull it off, but the metal had already molded over their skulls and the constant pressure made their limbs convulse and body shake. She continued to squeeze and squeeze until each trooper turned limp with distorted helmets that glistened with liquid.

Far in the depths of her mind and the Force’s realm, the Rogue Jedi cackled at her with delight.

Her blood raged under the skin when she stumbled into a run and took Kyp’s thin form into her arms, his breaths short and eyes searching.

“Móni?”

“It’s alright,” she constantly stroked his face and hair to comfort him—comfort herself. “I can—I can…”

Qar-Tan had Kyp’s head on his lap and struggled to find the means to do something with his hands to save him.

“Can’t you heal him?” his grip on Móni’s shoulders were tight and desperate. “I know you can!”

She grazed over the steaming wound and repeated the gigoran Elder’s lecture when she attempted to heal a child.

_‘Use what is inside you and extract it into the wound. Feel the tissue, blood, and nerves needed to repair it. What you’re doing is strengthening the natural cells in our bodies to expedite the healing process.’_

She couldn’t stop shaking. She couldn’t concentrate no matter how many times the instructions were repeated in her mind.

“Focus on a singular origin,” Nyla’s damaged voice pushed through the panic. Dark pigments blotched her purple skin and an arm dangled uselessly at her side. “The wound.”

“I can’t,” Móni cracked. “You’re a Jedi. You can heal, right?”

“No, child,” she shook her head. “The ability was rare amongst Force-users. Only you can do this.”

“I’ve never been able to do it correctly. The only way I can is by transferring another life but never mine.”

Nyla extended her hand, “Then use mine.”

“Take mine!” Qar-Tan gave his as well.

“No. If Kyp knew your life was used in exchange for his own he would never forgive me.”

“This isn’t about forgiveness!” Qar-Tan was paying close attention to the slowing heave of Kyp’s final breaths. “As long as he’s alive. He’s done so much for us, for you, he deserves to outlive us all.”

Maul towered over U’lis who wheezed slow inhales and fingers stretching for his son. His lips parted into a silent murmur no one could hear, but he heard—so loud and clear.

“Yes,” Maul responded.

U’lis shut his eyes in a sigh and asked without words or gestures but which Maul understood simply by the subtleties in the body language and calm in the Force. He lifted the male into his arms and set him beside Móni who stared on with a fog of despair misting over her bright vision.

“He asks to use what is left of him,” Maul straightened at the other Inquisitors’ strengthening intentions to finish them off for good.

Resentment coursed around his lungs at the dying Sith-pretender; another one of Sidious’ tools, used and discarded for a purpose greater than anything any one of them could comprehend. How he was finally free of him—free of _it_. The gold of his eyes faded with his life, a swirl of green breaking through the Dark Side’s chains.

“This is his redemption, Móni,” his tongue was heavy from the gravity of someone’s life thrust onto his consciousness. How strange it felt to consider their worth despite their actions and horrors. “The choice lies with you.”

He spun on his heel; lightsabers illuminated with a furtive purpose to stall the Inquisitors for her to do what must be done.

“Stand aside, Failed Apprentice. The odds are against you.”

The Grand Inquisitor’s notes of dignity shriveled into frustration which Maul reveled in and the battle he would soon reign victory over.

“I disagree,” he stepped into form. “Now come and allow me to demonstrate what it means to be a true Sith.”

Móni took U’lis’ hand in hers and felt his life force seep into the Force that had opened its arms to take in the poor creature, despite him being Sith—despite the atrocities he committed. She put Kyp’s hand into his father’s and held them tightly together.

Slowly, with everything he had left, she transferred it into his son, the wound mending shut and Kyp’s eyes moving underneath the eyelids.

The three of them regressed deeper, deeper into the Force, lost in each other’s love, and what had bound them together. Memories of what once was passed between, droplets of happiness Móni had forgotten they shared and the support they gave one another. They were her family and she destroyed it.

**_No, you didn’t, Móni._ **

They were in an open courtyard with several beings dressed in light and dark robes under a gray tree that blossomed with violet flowers. U’lis was amongst them, as one of them, face cleared of any scars and eyes a vibrant green. He smiled wide and embraced Móni then Kyp who stood beside her with a slack jaw.

 _Where…?_ Kyp bent his legs, strangely, then observed his hands, touched his face and neck. _What’s happening? Are we dead?_

 _No_ , Móni clarified. _We’re in the Force. But, I don’t recognize this place._

 ** _The Jedi Temple_** _,_ U’lis showcased with open arms, **_and where Nuit and I first met_**.

Kyp expressed his confusion and scared himself when he turned his head, _I don’t understand._

_This is U’lis’ final farewell, Kyp. After this, he will be with us forever through the Force._

_Then this is happening because of you_. He stared at his father and gripped his wrist, _You can’t go_.

 ** _It’s my time, kiddo. It’s the only thing I can do after what I put you through—giving you my life._** He raised a hand to quiet the protests, **_Don’t blame Móni for what happened to me. It wasn’t her fault._**

This time it was Móni who didn’t understand, _What do you mean?_

**_Think carefully. When we were over the tub of molten steel, escaping the Mining Guild, there was an explosion that shook the walkway and threw me over the edge. You caught me in time and brought me up but…_ **

_I let go._

**_Yes. But you were forced to. Something happened that moment. Something tumultuous that affected the galaxy. Affected you._ **

_I don’t_ , sparse images sparked in her memories but nothing substantial to prove his point, _I don’t remember_.

**_The Clone Wars ended. Every Jedi that died, every padawan that was killed or stripped away from their masters, every youngling you heard scream under the Chosen One’s blade. You felt it all and it tore you apart._ **

Heavy, ventilated breaths filled her audio senses and there was a large man with mechanical steps and joints in her vision. The upper half of his face was revealed to her—bald, pale, and textured with thick scars. He stared back with gold eyes tainted at their rims and Móni knew then how she was made aware of the Chosen One for the first time. Remembered his suffering. Remembered, the cries of infants.

There were many more visuals than of him. Many faces she had never seen but their final moments contained the clone’s white armor. Voices she didn’t recognize but filled with anguish and loss.

**_When you came to you had already dropped me and couldn’t find my body._ **

Móni shook her head in denial _, If I hadn’t been ignoring the Force. If I had been training myself and with it and not be so stubborn then your death could have been avoided. I would have had control._

**_Try to look._ **

_At what?_

**_What could have happened if you continued to listen to Force. If you did save me._ **

The webs of fate appeared, and she threaded her fingers through the past that could never exist again.

_I see... Your death. Later. And Kyp’s. When the Empire stormed the Abolition._

**_Yes. I know what you want to ask but I can’t tell you. It’s something you need to discover on your own._ **

_Why?_

**_We’re prohibited from saying anything._ **

_What? From who?_

**_If you don’t mind. I’d like to talk to Kyp before I go._ **

In the time they spoke she scanned the Jedi who existed from U’lis’ memories and recognized none, many presumed to have passed or in exile. Among them was a child whose garbs differed in style and color, reflecting a period in the galaxy that far predated any year she could recount. He was motionless with a lifeless stare in narrowed eyes as black as space. His neck snapped to the side with a crack before gliding over, body unmoving, and mouth opening in a soundless shriek. It took one blink for the child to reappear in levitation at her height, warm beige skin sunken into dark circles around the eyes, and he felt familiar. His thin lips moved slowly and shaped each word carefully; speaking in a voice that did not match his age but of a grown male. Of the Rogue Jedi.

**_Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall set me free._ **

The boy disappeared and the temple faded. The last image that imprinted her mind was of Kyp, U’lis, and Nuit together one last time.

The clash of lightsabers broke her out into the living realm and in her hands was a mix between cold and warmth. Qar-Tan exclaimed in joy and poured it onto Kyp’s lips as he kissed him deeply.

Móni flashed a glance at Maul holding out as long as he could for them, then turned to Nyla.

“Were you able to find a ship to get off-planet?”

“Yes. Before we were interrupted by a mole,” she side-eyed Dryden meant to melt skin.

He held up his hands in defense, “I had no idea about Eylanis.”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Móni hurried. “Take the ship and go. Maul and I will find another way out,” she searched for one more being. “Where’s the Count?”

“Long story.”

The insinuation behind the avoidance and Dryden checking himself in the reflection of the brass blades on his knuckles, Móni twitched with the urge to grapple the pathetic being in an armlock but Maul’s pulsating anger reminded her time was short.

She shoved an aggressive point at Dryden, “You better have a good excuse, or your neck is on the line. Now get going.”

“You better get out of here alive, Móni,” Kyp was returned to his hoverchair, exhaustion pulling on his skin at being revived from near-death. “You’re the only family I have left.”

“You can count on it, kid.”

They shared a glance at U’lis’ quiet body, his features serene, and the ghost of a soft smile lingering from the final remnants of his life existing.

She took a deep inhale and pounced off the ground at a speed of a bolt being fired and collided with the Grand Inquisitor, shoving him against a pillar.

“Should have brought more Inquisitors,” she sneered. “The two of you are no match for Maul and me together.”

The Grand Inquisitor struggled to push off her mass, her body no different than shoving against a deeply rooted tree. But the frustrations he exhumed and the fear of his blade edging closer to his face mixed with a dot of arrogance.

“We are well aware,” he looked up.

Breaking through the transparent ceiling were several units of jump troopers descending on jetpacks with a rain of glistening shards. Red bolts showered across the ballroom, forcing Maul and Móni to back away from their opponents to protect themselves.

Móni lifted into the air and downed several while Maul incapacitated some with the Force via collision or hurtling them to the ground until he was obstructed by the Grand Inquisitor and Second Sister.

He spun out of a bolt’s range then deflected a swing to his head, which was continued by another in a seamless succession he had no choice but to pull away from. The Second Sister, her agility a fierce skill, did not let Maul take a breath at the distance he put between them and swung at him. However, with impressive footwork, he sidestepped from the slash, took her arm, and flipped her on her back. He went for the kill, but the Grand Inquisitor leaped at him with circling sabers and had to roll back from the contact.

“Maul, time to go!”

Móni backed against a pillar to remove a trooper who clung to her then angled her head to the shattered sky where an embellished starship—no doubt Vos’—flew past and out the atmosphere.

There was an inkling of irritation where the concept of escape eluded Maul, not knowing how they could when they were surrounded and no doubt more to come in due time, but after years of being with Móni’s greatest and infuriating asset—her schemes—he deciphered her meaning. Before he would have taken his chances and faced death gladly, however, the very idea of it sparked a flutter in his stomach at an opportunity to mend what had happened in the past and be near her.

He Force pushed the Inquisitor’s from continuing their charge then scaled a spiraling staircase to reach the highest ground where he stood on the thin balustrade. After some deflection of stray bolts, Móni flew close along the mezzanine and Maul stepped off.

Móni took him in her arms then shot out into the crisp, cold winds of night, finally free of the estate’s clutches and into the open. Far in the distance and out of range was the distinctive silhouette of an Imperial Star Destroyer who would most likely be dispensing TIEs to capture them.

Maul’s arm was wrapped across her shoulders and his face close enough to feel the static of their proximity. For a moment they were engulfed by the other’s presence, their breaths in sync and noses nearly touching while they stared deeply into the other; finding pieces of what they admired so much about the individual before them.

A bolt grazed Móni’s leg, a much-needed awakening to get away from the jump troopers who were following them out. She sped along the black expanse with the white moon capturing his horns and the white jewels in her hair. Maul was engulfed with her scent, no longer floral but of something familiar and so undeniably her; the hints of fragrant spices as if she had just finished her ventures in the kitchen and sweat from their recent battle. They were welcoming and reminded him of what he could have lost if they had taken her or if she chose to leave his side.

“No protests this time?” she broke their spell, her voice unnaturally low at his constant staring that made her blood rise.

“Not at the moment.”

“Later?”

“Perhaps.”

Her smile filled him to the core, and he reflected the same pleasure of her company.

“We need to find a ship. If we want to get out of here.”

“Yes,” he responded, admiring the spot of warmth along his back and side.

“Any ideas? All I’ve got is going to that Destroyer and take something from their hangar bay.”

Maul shifted his hand behind her shoulder and Móni’s mind went mute at the sensation on her bare skin.

“Kyp made mention of a ship on the outskirts of the estate’s land that belonged to those bodyguards… who were _not_ bounty hunters,” he slid a coy grin.

“Alright. If you’re so smart then how are we going to find this ship?”

She flashed her teeth in that lopsided way, brimmed with confidence, and capable of making Maul’s breaths cut short.

“With the Force.”

As expected, she turned morose, “Let me find someplace to land and give me a sec.”

“No,” he regarded her injuries, none of which she made any complaints about or the emotions she continued to bury deep into herself. The exhaustion around her eyes. “No, I will do it.”

Móni clamped her mouth shut at the sudden act of selflessness without discussion.

“Are you—?"

Already shutting her out, Maul submerged into the Force’s depths and searched their area; past the breeze parting for them, the imminent pursuit of the enemy along the horizon, and the planet’s life below. He was never one to subject to an environment’s life force, the necessity of wasting any attention did nothing to benefit a Sith’s practices. Being with Móni for so long, though, picking up her habit of sensing every fallen leaf and blade of grass, he had begun to understand the benefits of connecting with the earth and its natural inhabitants. It was akin to developing a second vision, one that could map the coordinates of a whole planet on feelings alone. What was most fascinating about the process was how little use of the Dark Side was needed, or the Light Side. It simply required the Force.

A dead mass of empty space touched his senses along with the high-pitched vibrato of TIE fighters.

“Veer south.”

“Hang on.”

The burst of acceleration pushed his body deeper into her form and she held him more securely against her chest, the crook of her neck and jawline entirely exposed to him. Maul forced his attention away to the estate they left behind, its massive structure a much smaller scale at the miles put between them.

He continued to guide them, but as they neared, so did the Imperials who would soon descend upon them by the swarms.

“I see it!”

Móni landed them by the military-grade starship, sleek and outfitted for combat, and primed to take them off the dreadful beauty of Aldimune.

She inhaled the pure winds into her lungs and curled her toes into the lush, rose grass and pictured herself sprawled over it when she wasn’t being tracked by the enemy.

“Come, Móni. We have little time before they reach us.”

Maul drew her to the open ramp where he waited expectantly at the top, though, she remained at its base.

“There’re more TIEs than one ship can handle to break their defenses,” Móni felt their fast approach graze her skin. “Go and get airborne while I help fend back what I can.”

“Get in,” he didn’t miss a beat to respond with command.

“Did you hear me? We won’t stand a chance if I can’t make an opening for us.”

“This has sufficient armaments and shields to handle the fighters.”

Móni made a noise of disbelief and met him halfway, “You know it won’t be enough, Maul. And the longer we argue about this the harder it’ll be to get through.”

She made a decisive turn to make herself scarce and give him no choice.

A leather-bound hand curled their fingers around her elbow and pulled her back, bringing her close to the troubled furrow on his brow and the slight quiver in his lips.

“I am not taking that risk,” Maul made a slight tug. “Sidious knew you were here and intends to take you this time.”

“If I’m captured, then I guess that’s the end of the line for me and I’m officially off your hands and into Palpatine’s. I’m sure he’s going to have a field day with me.”

He closed his jaw tight and shook his head fast, “He cannot have you. Not after everything we worked to build together and what you have become.”

There was a loud exhale from her nose when she pulled her arm back, the action leaving a sting in Maul’s chest.

“I’m doing this for your escape. What _you_ trained me for, right? To be this unstoppable force everyone should fear.”

Her words gutted him from the pain infused in them. He searched within for the right thing to say but fell short when desperation clung to him so fiercely, drawing his mind blank. How he continued to present himself in a certain image before her by masking the depths of how he truly felt about her status, their bonds… _her_.

And she felt it, the turmoil and fear that swirled around him. But she hadn’t the strength to pull him out of the shell he was constantly hiding away in. Móni was drained and was barely hanging by a thread that suspended her above a well of emotions she had been shoving away to focus on everyone’s escape. Including his.

“I’m floating in a space of uncertainty with you,” Móni drew out the root of everything. There and then, as if they were her last words to him. “And it’s so hard to find common ground when I’m desperately trying to hold on. I don’t want to leave your side. I don’t want to stop being your apprentice. I’m happy with you and it’s not something I want to let go of. But the Crimson Veil is your priority and if you need to let go of me then tell me. But my feelings for you will always remain the same.”

Maul did not break away, watching the way her lips moved, the creases of worry on her forehead, her black eyebrows curved in anxiousness, and the moon’s light clashing with the sunset; a phenomenon only she was capable of.

He knew then. He knew what he wanted and took a tentative step forward, putting his hand in hers. The very hand that has slain her foes, rubbed ointment on his palm, healed, created life, and concocted so many meals for him—he curled his fingers around.

“Apprentice or not, I want you by my side.”

There were only traces of his emotions matching his words, but they were no different than when he complimented her: soft, affectionate, and large like an embrace that enveloped her whole. No matter how faint they were, however, Móni could not deny what she _saw_. Maul was… nervous. The quake in his shoulders reached her hand and she wouldn’t doubt his mind was going in circles from his own disbelief.

She wanted to fly. Fly and touch the stars and bring them down with her and turn the planet into a twinkling expanse to match how she felt: luminous and beautiful.

An awkward laugh broke past the grin she just discovered had been plastered on her face for a cool while, her cheeks straining at the size of it. And Maul sunk so deep into the expression he had never seen on her before his limbs barely functioned, even the cybernetics.

It was a happiness he created.

Móni entwined her fingers with his, sucking the air out of his lungs and a pang of frustration at the barrier his gloves created. Then she stepped close, too close, the tips of their noses barely brushing the other and a leer that stretched her lips in an alluring fashion that sent his hearts pounding against his chest.

“In that case, there’s no way you’re getting rid of me that easily, handsome,” she pulled away and stepped down the ramp. “I’ll make a path for us. Expect me back.”

There was the spark of fury for another argument and keep her on the ship, but understood it was futile.

“Móni.”

Her lightsaber hummed to life, ready for battle, “Hm?”

Maul swallowed down the lump in his throat, “Do not be careless.”

“Same goes for you,” she said before lifting off.

Her confidence erased any doubts he may have had and held onto those feelings she left him with before entering the ship; albeit with difficulty in his wobbly joints.

He had made a new and dangerous discovery about Móni: her charms could quite possibly be his undoing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :]
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	9. Boundless

Móni was correct in their numbers; the Imperials spared no expense to bring them down with everything at their disposal. On top of the TIE fighters, the Star Destroyer had their location locked onto their sensors and added ion canons to the crossfire.

Through the viewport, there were blurs of blood-orange severing wings in pairs, sometimes in groups when they were gathered against their will by an invisible force. Maul could only spare fractions of a second to peer at Móni’s status when he had his own barrage to tear down; spiraling and aiming at any in his way with shields remaining at a decent percentage. They scaled the dark atmosphere, though, making progress amidst their battle in the sky and nearing the final layers until they exit into space.

Two new TIE fighters entered the fray, and by the sleek curve of their wings and glistening coat of paint, there was no doubt they were the Inquisitors. They made a direct course to Móni and Maul sneered at the nerves it took to think they could possibly take her down and away from him.

He banked a harsh left, swerving away from the insects who continued to peck at the shields or missing consistently and tailed one, veering them away from Móni so she had one less vermin to deal with.

Amid loops and rolls, the Inquisitor managed to get behind him and chased Maul through a rain of green. He twirled into an aileron roll, dodging their fire, and picked off a TIE who was coming toward him—accelerating to meet them head-on. The shields held against their laser canons until he was close enough to pull back hard on the yoke, sending the ship into a backward loop and leading the Inquisitor to collide with the TIE. They broke away in time to not sustain serious damage, but there was a trail of smoke in their gradual descent to the nearest land.

Maul assessed Móni who handled the Inquisitor with ease. Her body spun away from their canons and went in pursuit of the starfighter, her speed outmatching them and slicing at a wing that sent them spiraling to the earth, but not without the pilot ejecting themselves to safety.

The weakened shields no longer able to fully deflect the attacks, the ship shook under the turbulence and the control panel alarmed with a warning of it dwindling below half its full percentage. Outside the viewport, Móni sped alongside Maul and motioned to the final wave ahead of them. He scoured the controls for an armament selection to help create a gap and landed on exactly what he hoped the ship was equipped with.

He sent Móni to battle the TIEs at their rear and fired several missiles to scatter the formation and eradicated a few. Maul shot down several in the pandemonium and read the atmospheric chart displaying their close ascension outside Aldemune. Móni dove before him, using his line of fire for cover to sever more under her blade.

Maul flicked a switch for the ramp and a scream tore out his hearts. Móni fell toward him and struck the top of the ship. He flinched to remove himself from the controls and run to her aide, but a weight settled on his tense arms to remain in the cockpit—to trust her. His speed remained constant, however, the uncertainty freezing him instead of pushing for acceleration, and glanced constantly at a blinking light that gave him the only indication of a foreign object on the ship.

When the bulb turned gray, time escaped him. A red light flashed dangerously under him and was vaguely aware of the shields depleting quickly or the remaining miles left between space and freedom. Maul ground his teeth with a decision and went to turn the ship, but a pair of hands pressed down against his along with panting breaths.

“What are you waiting for? Punch it!”

They sped out of the planet’s hold and Móni pushed the lever to send them into hyperspace.

There was a breath of a moment for Maul to absorb her touch and connect with her presence before taking into consideration who the vehicle once belonged to.

“We need to remove the ship’s transponder. This is an Imperial craft and we can be tracked.”

“Right,” she looked about her then scratched her blown-out curls. “What am I looking for?”

A tic of admiration touched his lips, “Underneath.”

They sunk to the floor and scanned the neat array of wires, power supplies, capacitors, and drives.

“Is it one of these or these?”

Without needing to understand what she meant Maul answered easily, “A box.”

“Is it this?”

“Yes.”

She scooted some to allow him space to work on removing it and after some seconds of processing what needed to be done, Móni dug into the wires and assisted in disconnecting the transponder.

“What if we yank it out?”

Maul hummed in thought, “I suppose—”

Without waiting for a full explanation, only needing the aforementioned words to grant her pardon, Móni dented the box then tugged down without effort. The severed wires sparked white and in one flex it was crushed entirely.

“There we go.”

All Maul could do was give a blank stare at the contorted part, understanding finishing the pros and cons of their choice was now irrelevant. But they could no longer be tracked which was the goal.

Without a transponder to work with, he plotted their course manually while Móni fiddled with the comm unit.

“Can we trace back Kyp’s communication device from yours? I want to make sure they got out alright.”

As soon as she finished, his commlink flashed with a transmission.

“No need.”

He transferred the connection to the ship’s systems, giving her access.

“Kyp?”

“ **Um** ,” Qar-Tan’s voice came through. “ **He’s passed out, but I promised to contact you when I ‘had a feeling’? Guess I was right?** ”

“Where are you heading to?”

“ **Figured we can rendezvous at Andelm IV. Although, Vos has his own opinions** ,” his annoyance slid across.

“Where does he want to go?”

“ **To some shipbuilder’s yard to get his yacht** ,” the eye roll was prevalent in the tone.

“Oh. _That_ ,” her and Maul made a mutual exchange of slight disbelief. “Put him on for me.”

In the brevity of time for Qar-Tan to find Vos, Móni turned to Maul for the news she knew he wouldn’t be pleased to hear.

“Count Baelop didn’t leave with them. Or Eylanis.”

Sparks of fury ignited, filling the cabin and pressing against her, “What?”

“Think he was killed.”

“ **My lord**.”

Vos came through at the opportune moment for Maul to strike a glare at the comm unit and snarled.

“What happened with the Count?”

Móni could have sworn there was a whisper of prayer before he began.

“ **You see** ,” he tremored. “ **Eylanis was an accomplice to the Imperial’s raid. The true mole and not Eezula**.”

“Explains why she was so interested in me,” Móni mumbled.

Maul held his jaw securely shut, his breathing deep and loud at the anger spewing off his skin, and allowed Vos to finish. Granting him a final excuse before the choice to end his life for good came to mind.

“ **I’m unsure what her true intentions are. I don’t—I can’t believe she would side with the Empire** ,” there was disarray in his manner. That Eylanis may have meant more to him than he led on. “ **Her reason for killing Count Baelop was personal and to gain the Emperor’s favor, but he left me the coordinates to his estate and said everything you needed from him can be found there, including information on Zahri Tefnut**.”

The name said out loud created a whiplash effect on Móni from the stark reminder of someone she loved kept so many things hidden from her. That the only being left alive who knew her shadowed past died, leaving more questions behind. More uncertainty of what she was. What it all meant.

Her sudden disconnect pulled Maul out of his anger and made a quick shift.

“Do as the iktotchi says and return to Andelm IV. A ship will be provided to take you to your destination. And send me the coordinates. Now.”

He severed the transmission and started for Móni, but she was halfway to the exit.

“I’m going to find the refresher.”

The automatic door slid closed at its usual speed, but it was the loudest he ever heard it while he stood alone in the cockpit, ruminating over the dark secret he would have to impart with her soon.

The shower’s hot water stung the open cuts and blaster wounds, but the pain was a welcome distraction from the resurfacing memories with her mother. No longer were they gifts of comfort when the days were long and hard, they were tainted with deceit. Every smile, every story, every song meant nothing to her anymore but when she pictured their home on fire it came crashing down. The guilt of having let their final words end without closure.

The tattered dress was happily left crumbled on the floor and Móni took comfort in wearing tight fit shorts with a sleeveless top she found in some compartments. Then she tackled the largest nuisance at the moment: her hair.

She plucked out the jewels that adorned it, many tangled deep in the curls or securely fastened even after being washed. And the longer she spent on it the deeper her frustrations became, and the refresher’s dripping quiet strengthened her deafening thoughts; the peace only an illusion to give her time to process what had transpired so quickly. Móni stared into the mirror, hating the reflection of the being who stood there with sad eyes and bruises on her dark features.

From unleashing her greatest burden in the least ideal way possible to discovering fragments of her mother’s past and Palpatine’s intentions with her, she was completely spent. When the ghost of U’lis’ cold hand in hers returned it was the final shove to break the dam that held shut for hours upon hours. Rotations. Months. Cycles.

Her knees buckled under the pressure of the sobs that heaved from her stomach and her arms were weak from holding herself up against the sink at the constriction around her chest. However, she embraced the release by exclaiming her cries and relishing the warm liquid that drenched her face.

Over and over she wondered what could have been done differently to save him. What could have been different if she never entered his or Kyp’s lives. If she had maybe allowed Palpatine to find and take her.

A warm touch pressed her shoulder and she backed away in an instant, eyes wild and prepared to shove them back with the Force.

“Móni.”

Maul wasn’t the least bit concerned from the threat, his ungloved hand reaching for her, but flinched back at the abrupt thunder in her voice.

“What?” she asked accusingly while wiping her face without kindness.

“You were not,” he lost his train of thought when he considered the severity of her wounds she had yet to treat. How much more there was with most of her body exposed. “You were not responding.”

“I’m fine,” she faced her back to him and returned to unclasping the wretched jewels.

Instead of leaving, he remained steadfast while watching her struggle to find the gleaming dots in her locks and listening to her huffs of impatience. Soon the fumbling and slips of her fingers turned into aggressive tugs that were no longer at just the hairpieces but against her scalp.

“I hate this!” the side of her fist struck a wall putting in a deep dent.

It was more than just hair troubles, Maul understood. The anguish he felt earlier and her cries…

He made a rapid hold on her wrist before giving her the opportunity to yank on herself again.

“Stop.”

Móni froze at his stern reflection looking back at her through the mirror and allowed him to push her arm down.

One jewel refracted the light to his eyes. There was a temptation he dared not indulge himself with, but he had a taste of finally expressing what had tormented him for years, stepping out of his emotional comfort, and the effects they had on her were the most rewarding treasures he had the pleasure of experiencing. Also, he hoped it would help cease the unnecessary self-harm.

Slow and careful, he released her wrist and traced a finger along the tiny jewel. Maul plucked it off then continued to the next one, reveling the wet strands of hair that grazed his knuckles. He continued sifting through, gathering them into the palm of his hand then dumping them into the sink before repeating the process.

The chimes of diamonds striking metal were all that passed between them and Móni could no longer keep her attention on him without staring on with bemusement or keep the blush from heating her skin at the gentle tugs which would often be so delicate she could hardly feel his hands. So, she just stood there, waiting for him to gather the adornments with patience she severely lacked.

But again. The silence made her thoughts too loud and they swirled around her no matter how hard she tried to focus on his touches. Her lips trembled to hold it in for a bit longer until he finished and left her to suffer alone. However, her vision blurred under her body’s betrayal and her face construed into a sob which she covered to muffle her cries and hide the tears.

Maul dropped what was left into the sink and stepped beside her, unsure how to comfort her. What to say. What to do. He started with what he knew and searched the refresher’s compartments where he recovered a pack of stims and took one to inject into her shivering arm. There was no longer a coat on him to offer, dirty with carbonization anyways, but he suspected there should be clean clothes for her to wear somewhere in the ship.

“I’m so tired, Maul,” she halted him from leaving, her words quaking between hiccups and sniffles. “I’m so tired.” Her fingers curled over her eyes and pressed hard against them. “Everywhere I go I leave a trail of dead bodies of those I love and care for. My mothers. Ravi. U’lis. Mayishka. And almost Kyp. I almost lost Kyp because of me! If only I never existed. If I only I wasn’t what I was then no one would have to suffer.”

“Móni, look at me.”

He did not repeat himself, waiting for her to finally gather enough of herself to face him with swollen eyes and tears that refused to cease.

“You cannot blame yourself for U’lis’ failures. He turned his fears into a weakness, a dangerous fault, and use of the Dark Side which he never fully committed to for he refused to let go of the Jedi’s teachings. How do you suppose Kyp’s life would be if you two never met?”

“I don’t know,” she sniffed and recalled their very first encounter. How frail and socially deprived he was. “Sad, maybe? Maybe would be doing the same things he’s doing now: splicing and picking up small contracts here and there with a different crew.”

“The Force may not have a hold over your actions, but it does over his. It guided him to you. Guided him to Vos’ estate. Coming there was no coincidence, I know you felt it. I believe it is time for you to stop seeing the Force as an enemy but as a tool that can bring to light the mysteries that surround you.”

She rolled a jewel between her fingers, processing his meaning.

“When I was transferring U’lis’ life into Kyp, we were briefly sent to the Force’s realm and he said something strange to me: ‘We are prohibited from saying anything.’”

“We?”

“The Force. What has power over the Force?”

The concept alone threw him off in a loop of astonishment, “There is only the Force.”

“What did Baelop mean when he said the wills of the Force?”

“A phrase commonly used amongst Force-wielders, including myself.”

“Hm,” she tossed the small thing back into the glittering sink. “I’ll try harder from now on. To connect with it.”

“I will assist you.”

There was the intent of a smile, but it fell short, “I know you will.”

Móni wiped at the endless streaks down her cheeks and sniffed loudly. A sensation—a _need_ came over her and Maul was the only one who could offer it. Not only because he was the only sentient in her vicinity but because it was him she desperately sought for and the only one who could smooth the remnants of her pain.

“I have a favor to ask you.”

Maul awaited the words to do what she required of him for he understood little.

“Anything.”

She avoided his gaze when she lifted her arms awkwardly and meant to draw him in.

He blinked at the position at first before understanding what she was asking and sent his body aflame at the mix between embarrassment and desire. It was a hesitant gesture he made, small and hardly noticeable, but she took the slight upturn and raise of his hands as an indication of his permission.

She crashed into him, arms tightly wound around his neck that was free from the corset and the warmth of his body so much more accessible without the layers upon layers of the formalwear; Maul stripped to the bare minimum that exposed his arms and parts of his chest. It was what Móni had wished to do since their first embrace and she breathed in deeply, taking in the time he allowed her to hold him and memorizing the aroma mixed with wet stone and wood.

When he felt her pull away, Maul wasn’t yet prepared to feel the coldness of space and lightly encased her form around the waist. It wasn’t enough, he thought, and gradually tightened, pressing her further against him until the gentle hold turned into a grip of such longing. His hands ran up her back and into the thick array of curls and he sighed as he dipped his head into her shoulder, imprinting the sensation of twisted strands between his fingers and the unexpected softness of their texture.

He felt… full. So full of what he yearned so long for and when her touch ran up the base of his skull he clung to the thin fabric of her top at its tenderness. A kindness he never felt before encased him and her emotions kept pouring out, never ceasing, always reminding him of how utterly sincere she was with how she felt towards him. Disbelief still clung to his chest along with the pinprick of doubt, but he shoved them down so he could drown himself in everything she gave him. Meant only for him.

“Did you mean it?” her breath tickled his ear and sent a shiver down his spine.

Maul nuzzled into her neck, wanting to go deeper, “Yes.”

Móni smiled into his neck and melted in his arms, allowing herself to release all the tension and stress into him, which he gladly took away for her. And she had known since she first enveloped him in her arms, that he was where she belonged.

They pulled away and she searched for the emotions he continued to hold close to him, but she found snippets of them in his Sith-hues, no longer hazed in red but bright and golden. She pressed her forehead against his and touched their noses to take in what she could—what he allowed himself to unfold to her.

And he did. Slow. Meticulous. His hands ran up her arms and gripped her firm biceps when he broke the chains that held him away from her for so long and they erupted all at once. How much he admired and adored her. How much he ached to be in her presence and how much he missed her.

A grin filled her face, the beauty of her teeth and gleam in her eyes was everything he could want or ever need, and Maul replicated her elation. The unused cheek muscles stretched with a welcoming pain and exhaled a chuckle of wonderment.

“I meant every word.”

Of course, with her, the moment didn’t last very long when he was graced with her capricious ways.

“For how long? Since when?”

Expressing himself was one thing for Maul but speaking about it was another matter entirely and his mental and emotional capacity was overflowing.

"Another time,” he slid his hands down the lengths of her arm, careful not to press too tightly at the wounds mending themselves still from the medicine’s effects.

He took her hands, their tough skin a testament to her hard work and skills, but she turned his over so she could have access to trace the scar along his palm.

“I thought I lost you then,” she turned it over again and outlined the tattoos that shaped his knuckles and ran down the lengths of his tendons.

“As did I.”

Maul gulped back the nerves striking his skin under every one of her touches and prayed she couldn’t feel the rush of his pulse. But the light smirk meant she in fact did notice and entwined their fingers. Móni brought his knuckles to her lips and he could have collapsed from the short breaths that became so hard to suck back in. For once, he was pleased to have cybernetics to hold him straight.

He returned his face against hers, rubbing lightly, brushing their noses, and absorbing her essence into his very core. If it was possible, her smile only expanded further, and when he examined at their close proximity not only did he notice for the first time the flecks of gold in her eyes but the swollen skin underneath them.

“You need to rest,” he spoke softly.

Móni’s lower lip jutted in a pout which he responded with a grin filled with fondness. But she relented and allowed the pent up exhaustion overtake her.

“You’re right. I can black out any second now.”

“When you wake we will speak more.”

“Alright.”

Before he released her, Maul gravitated to the stubborn strand of curl that always dangled over her forehead. He brushed a finger across it, grazing her skin as well.

“Been wanting to do that?”

He dropped his hand in an instant and scowled at her coyness, “No.”

She erupted into a fit of laughter and it was the most gratifying sound.

“If you say so.”

They released their hold, missing each other’s touch already, and Móni made her exit with a long yawn.

Maul rubbed the area over his chest where his hearts thumped erratically, unable to cease their pounding. He was overcome with everything that was her, even in her absence her traces lingered, and he held onto the fading sensation until they were no more. His vision was filled with her face and neck and shoulders and arms, then he pressed his lips to the spot where she left a kiss on his knuckle; replaying the gentle touch that set his skin aflame.

He pounded the refresher closed and prepared to dowse the steam radiating off his body with cold water.

Never in his lifetime would Maul have considered forming bonds with another being.

 _With her_.

The incorrigible apprentice who never ceased to push her way into his life, and yet whom he encouraged to stay by him, Maul saw it so clearly for the first time. How attached they were. That there was someone who wouldn’t leave his side, nor he leave theirs.

Móni groaned with pleasure when she stretched awake and felt a presence with her in the small quarter. She leaned over the upper bunk where a dark form was curled on his side underneath then leaped over, her feet landing with a soft pat on cold steel. After a silent glance to watch the rise and falls of his rhythmic slumber, she slipped out.

The ship was outfitted for two, only carrying the bare essentials to survive several weeks for covert missions, and its sleek build for stealth and speed doesn’t give much space for those who travel in it. An obvious structure Imperials have created to push soldiers in completing their assignment with minimal comfort.

Luckily for Maul and Móni, Gigor was as uncomfortable and close as the two of them have ever gotten while eradicating many boundaries… At least until recently.

She swiveled in the pilot’s seat, going over constantly what may or may not have been a dream. The flutters in her stomach absorbed any pangs of hunger she might have had normally, and her body pulsed with life whenever she imagined his arms wrapping tightly around her and his breath on her skin. And he may not have intended it to happen, but Móni felt what she did to him. Every touch she made and every word she spoke spiked his emotions dramatically. It was no wonder he was always in a sour mood whenever she broached his comfort zone—he was in a constant battle of containing any shred of evidence that could expose him. Though, she was curious what the defining factor was that pushed his decision. The unknown length of time it took for him to constantly hide it meant he refused to face his feelings and could have simply chosen to never act on them.

Móni rubbed her lips, tasting his flesh upon them again, then slapped her hands to the armrest.

“Stop thinking about it.”

As much of a well-needed distraction it was, there was the threat to Crimson Veil by her being a part of it. The lengths they had taken to track her down should not be surprising considering who it was targeting her, but Palpatine was not someone who should be taken lightly anymore. Móni’s very existence was a hazard to anyone she was close with and although Maul refused to see it, his beliefs in the Force still strong, she knew his vision was fogged by a marvel for her abilities and keeping her close to him.

It dawned on her then how much more difficult it would be from here on out after their confession. To be a weapon meant her usefulness could be outlived, but as the very being whom he has connected and bonded with and coupled with his obsessive personality, letting go may not even be an option.

Mixed with the chaos of romance and mistakes and desires was Kyp’s well-being. She knew he was safe with Qar-Tan, and especially Nyla who had already proven her loyalty by offering her life. She shifted with discomfort to make a transmission but thought it best that if he was ready to speak to her, he would make the first move.

“Too many things happening,” she exhaled loudly. But she supposed there was time to sort everything she needed to since the worst was over.

To keep her mind off crimson skin and eyes that looked upon her with incredible admiration she roamed the console for any tasks to give herself. Knowing Maul and his methodical nature there may have been nothing for her to do, but she checked the ship's instruments and ran diagnostics while also gathering some of its military functions; the streamlined vehicle capable of packing a punch like a gunship. Then she landed on the navigation screen and the coordinates that weren’t set to Andelm IV or D’Qar.

Her motions slowed when she read where they were heading.

“Those are the coordinates Vos received from Count Baelop.”

Lost in the screen, she didn’t hear Maul’s notable whir of his cybernetics when he entered the cockpit.

He enhanced the location to a planet in the Unknown Regions and Móni only stared long and hard at the name.

“I know that planet.”

The memory surprised her. So small and insignificant during the times she had seen it but what she never questioned as a child made sense to her as an adult.

“Mother sent a transmission every cycle there. At least, in the early years of my childhood. She stopped, eventually. Now I know who it was to.”

Maul said nothing when he took the co-pilot’s seat and leaned into a fist, his turmoil stuffing the area.

“What is it?”

He sent a sharp glance from the corner of his eyes, ruminating on a decision before finally facing her fully, “I had the opportunity to speak with the Count before his death. He knew your mother very well.”

“Eezula mentioned her going to university with Vos’ father. He was part of that group?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know she was a university student and if Kyp’s info on Baelop was right, then she was from Naboo. This whole time I thought—I never considered she was from anywhere else but Devaron. She’s turning into a stranger,” a stale chuckle was all she could muster. “But why are you coming along? Don’t you have better things to do than peruse my mother’s checkered past?”

“To gather any more names who could assist our cause,” was his automatic response.

Móni pursed her mouth at the deceit tickling the hairs on her skin then leaned in, “And? What else?”

His arm fell with defeat along with the shoulders, “She knew Sidious. The extent of their relationship is, however, unknown to me.”

“What?”

Maul did not expect the somewhat jaunty tone with a laugh that was twisted and wrong.

“Next you’re going to tell me she was the queen of Naboo.”

He waited and watched for reality to sink in and the obvious denial she struggled to accept. And the pangs of her emotions striking the Force were aggressive enough to make him wince.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” even her smile was tilted in a strange way to hold back the explosion of hurt. “She would have told me—should have—about some psychopath who wants to use me for galactic domination. I mean, am I wrong? But I’m also not surprised because she worked so hard to close me off from the galaxy that when I arrived on Coruscant for the first time I was immediately targeted as an uncivilized, barbaric human just because 80% of the population doesn’t know what a real tree looks like. Didn’t matter if she taught me dozens of languages or the galaxy’s history, what was the point if she couldn’t even prepare me for the biggest threat in my life and from someone she knew! What’s even worse is if Momma knew as well and she never hid things from me. Ever!”

The lights and control panel flickered under her ire and Maul checked for the ship being sent out of hyperspace, though he pushed the concerns aside, already resolved to make any necessary maintenance if they happened to be put adrift in deep space. He reached for her but carried second thoughts at the sort of comfort she needed when she had showcased her desires to be left alone in the past during bouts of anger.

“The answers we have sought may finally be revealed to us.”

“Answers _you_ want,” she rose fast. “I’m starting to think it’s better I don’t know anything at all. Just kill the Emperor and his mouth-breathing henchman then be done with it. Who cares what the Force or anyone else wants with me. What about what _I_ want? No one’s bothered to ask me that!”

Maul stood by her, arms strictly pressed against his sides and riddled with uncertainty, but there was no one to turn to but himself to dowse the flames. He reflected how easily she was able to do it with him; his respect for her, already high, pushing toward another level.

“Autonomy is what you seek,” he answered what he had always known and why she was in a constant battle with the Force. “And you may have it if you understand what you have been pushing away.”

Móni captured his gaze and expressed her admiration without shame, the softness in her eyes surprising him no matter how many times he’s seen it.

“You know, I thought going along with you to D’Qar was going to feel like a prison. But it was the first time in a long time I felt free. Free from myself and the pressures of what’s expected of me.”

“You gave me little choice in the matter.”

She flashed that lopsided grin he refused to believe he was attracted to, “Would you have preferred I be the obedient apprentice? I did try.”

“Did you really?”

Móni shrugged, smugness fluttering her lashes that had him release a deep chuckle of amusement.

“Maul.”

Since the day his name passed her lips for the first time, Maul believed that may have been the moment she unknowingly latched his hearts in her hands. But the somber timber in her voice prepared him for what was to come and gave her his full attention.

“It’s getting more dangerous, keeping me with Crimson Veil. You know that right?”

“I am aware. This is why, for the time being, and as a precaution, we separate ourselves from the base to clear any trails they may possibly have on us.”

“ _You_ don’t need to tag along. I’m the main issue here.”

“Would you prefer to travel on your own?”

Móni blinked with astonishment at the light tease and the slight sincerity in the statement. And he knew exactly what he was asking.

“If I said yes?”

“Too late.”

Her laugh filled the cockpit, his spirit, and body. A sound he strived to hear as often as he could.

She stroked the seat’s headrest in thought and his hand twitched to take hold of hers, “I don’t want to feel this way about Mother anymore. She may have had her reasons, but it still hurts. And I’m scared that whatever I find will make it worse.”

“Your fears do not reside in what you may discover about yourself?”

The confusion had Móni quirk a grin at his need to understand what she knew was a novel concept for him, “I’m not as scared of myself I used to be thanks to you. I still have trouble controlling myself, but I know it’s something I can work and improve on. Whereas with Mother, whatever I find can’t be changed or altered. It’s ingrained in the past, her choices and secrets, and what may have led to… me. Do you think knowing what I am would change who I am or how you see me now?”

“No,” Maul surprised both of them with his confidence. “Perhaps, in the past, when I once viewed you as a—,” the guilt resurfaced along with the comparisons between himself, U’lis, and Sidious. He rubbed the sweat off his palm on the thermal long sleeve he wore, suited for soldiers who wore armor over it.

“As a weapon?”

Hearing her say it worsened the constriction around his throat—that he was finally facing a fault he was in constant avoidance with and horrendously wrong about.

“Móni, I—,” he swallowed a dry lump. “Forgive me.”

It was what he could muster under the pressure of the thoughts spinning endlessly in his mind, what should have been said and the specifics of what he was asking forgiveness for because there was so much more he had done. But when his cheek was covered with a heat that spread down to his stomach and sent a vibration to the cybernetics, his thoughts silenced as he stared wide-eyed at the hand placed there and an expression he had never seen on her before.

Móni held his face with both hands, his skin as surprisingly soft as every other place on his body she had the pleasure of knowing, “I know.”

His arms stiff at the sides, Maul absorbed the sensation of her touch and breaths. There was more he wanted to say, but the words were lost in the emotions she surrounded them in as if saying she understood the conflict circulating his insides and eased the pressure to explain anymore.

When she released him, he regretted not having held her in place to keep her touch.

“We got a few hours to go, so what should we do? And don’t say meditate.”

Maul inclined his head in disagreement, “You must. Your emotions remain disjointed.”

“They’re always disjointed,” she followed him to the floor and got into position beside him. “I saw that.”

“What did you see?”

“The smirk! You agree!”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Liar.”

“I am, in fact, Sith.”

“That excuse won’t get far with me.”

“Like your Sith training.”

Móni blew a puff of air at a hanging curl, “Now he gets it.”

They resigned to silence, the bliss forever lingering on their faces while the ship’s vibrations lulled them into a deep meditative state.

Maul continued to hold his feelings close, Móni unable to sense them in the same way several hours earlier. And unless the rumbles of laughter burst from his chest, facial expressions were kept minimal. But she took what she could in the tiny gestures and velvet voice that could smooth any tantrum like the one she had earlier. He too remained skeptical with the concept of touch, but with a far better understanding of his boundaries, she could wait cycles for him to gather the courage and openly express his emotions through contact. What mattered more than anything was their transparency, the stress of holding back gone, and how bright his eyes had become.

-

Clear shards crushed under Eylanis’ heels when she stepped into the center of the ballroom and observed the open ceiling, pleased to see the geometric hanging craft at its center still intact.

The Grand Inquisitor, several inches taller than her and her family, presented himself in professional conduct. Polite in his mannerisms and yet still upheld a certain threat in how he analyzed every inch of her with distrust. 

“Hate what you see, dear?”

The prominent anger she saw a pattern with anyone who held a red lightsaber flashed in a scowl before holding out a holodevice that illuminated a full-body display of a man in regal robes and silver hair. She flashed her most eloquent smile as she curtsied with as much respect her knees would allow her.

“My Emperor.”

Palpatine regarded her with some skepticism but had confidence in his power over her and reciprocated the pleasantries, “ **Madame Vos. I assume the gala was a success?** ”

“Mostly. We had an unexpected guest. One that was overlooked due to an alias that was used, but he is a nightbrother who goes by Maul.”

“ **A surprise, but not entirely unexpected.** **Their escape was inevitable** ,” the Grand Inquisitor did not hide his grimace at the insinuation of his own abilities. “ **What were you able to gather?** ”

“Durmónia knows little about Zahri’s past, including your involvement. I do believe Maul gathered some information from Count Baelop, but I killed him before he gave away anything substantial.”

“ **What did he want with the Count?** ”

“Contacts, mostly. Of the sort, I can’t be sure on.”

He held in a scowl, upholding the image of decorum, but the disappointment was evident in the tone, “ **Do you have anything else of use for me?** ”

“Eezula has sworn her loyalty to your Empire and,” she paused for effect, “I believe I made a unique discovery about our dynamic duo.”

“ **Continue** ,” he gestured with a grace she hated he was capable of upholding to appear cordial and pleasant.

“Durmónia and Maul are rather… close. And not in a master and apprentice sort of way.”

There was a dangerous spark in his cerulean stare and Eylanis did her best not to shutter from it. She was brave, but not stupid, and she knew what manner of power he possessed if he commanded Force-sensitive beings under his rule. What her father obsessed over to cure his beloved wife.

His lips curled meant to showcase how pleased he was but what she saw was a heinous plot in the making.

“ **Thank you, Madame Vos. Is there anything else you wish to add to your findings?** ”

“Nothing, Emperor Palpatine.”

Eylanis held her breath at the closed grin that didn’t match the long, hardened stare. He was parsecs away from her on Coruscant and yet it was as if he was standing in the very space with her, threatening her when he made no movement or inclination to act upon the skepticism Palpatine so obviously felt toward her.

“ **Grand Inquisitor** ,” he called for instead, turning his back to Eylanis. “ **What of you and Second Sister?** ”

“U’lis overstepped his bounds and almost revealed more about the woman than you intended her to know, Emperor. I made it so he is no longer a hazard to your plans.”

Palpatine hummed his content, “ **Very good**.”

Coming across to their location in long strides was Second Sister who made herself known in the projection. She removed her helmet, dark hair cascading over brown features with smoldering eyes that may have held more conviction than Eylanis thought she had in herself.

“My Emperor,” she bowed. “I searched the ship they left behind. Their travel logs have been completely wiped; any trace of their base’s location gone. However,” she presented a thin needle glistening under the lighting and the pride in her tone raised, “I found this. Mandalorian and made with materials one can only find on certain planets. I can trace its origins then where the shipments have been made to.”

“ **You have done well my Inquisitors** ,” Palpatine regarded them with the utmost sincerity. “ **Once you are done here, please escort Madame Vos to her husband. Or** ,” he returned to her, and the truth of everything Eylanis kept hidden was unveiled in a single look, “ **what remains of him**.”

Her chest heaved with deep breaths at what he knew. How much more he did know and why he was keeping her alive if he had a sense of what her intentions were.

“ **My condolences for the loss**. **I heard it was a rather gruesome death. Beheading, I believe, like your father?** **But I suppose that makes you the president of your deceased husband’s and sister’s enterprise, so also a cause for celebration.** ”

“All meant to serve the Empire,” she pushed out the glittering charms she and Dryden shared.

A final stab into her pride was sent her way from a lingering aloofness in his expression, and she understood then how a single man rose to such heights to command an entire galaxy. He knew how to keep things close, when to deliver judgment, and who he chose to keep under his power, regardless if they were an enemy.

“ **Yes**.”

The transmission was severed, and while the Inquisitors gathered their Imperial soldiers Eylanis held her composure to keep from collapsing from relief and not screaming at the man.

Palpatine may have suspicions of what she was hiding, how she knew Maul made contact with the Count and vital information was definitely shared between them. But whatever he may discover, she hoped it was anything to bring the Emperor to his knees. And in her core, she knew Durmónia was meant to assist in taking him down as well. The connections she had with her father, Baelop, Palpatine, even the estate Zahri designed were uncanny.

 _The Force…_ , none of this was a coincidence. In the glimmering moments when her father wasn’t completely disconnected from his children, he spoke highly of a force greater than either of them. And Durmónia was the center of it in some shape or form.

It was all too big for her and purged the existential thoughts altogether. Instead, she drifted to the fierce woman who may be the key to ending it all.

Really was a shame she wasn’t single.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gala Arc fin!
> 
> I made a [post](https://chaoticookie-autonomous.tumblr.com/post/635172597431140352/update) about it the other day on my blog, but I am taking a short break for some personal stuff (I know, I can't believe I do anything else other than writing this fic). Should be back in a month or so.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


	10. ACT II: Zahri

“We’ve _just_ enough fuel to get us there,” Móni read the fuel gauge while calculating the remaining parsecs it was going to take.

Maul was going through the ship’s systems, minimizing any power and use of fuel to simply fly them to their destination.

“What we have to reach the planet will need to suffice.”

“But if we run into something, we won’t make it at all probably.”

“A risk to be made since there are no hyperspace lanes charted in the region.”

“That’s true,” she considered. “But I’m pretty sure Baelop traveled on a safe route out of the Unknown Regions.”

“There is no way of knowing where it is located.”

“Maybe I can try to find it. Although, I’m not exactly sure what I would be trying to look for.”

“Ion engine particles have long since scattered or faded. It will be impossible to track.”

Unable to come up with any more options, Móni adjusted the scanner’s frequencies for any celestial bodies or anomalies they may run into.

“Flying straight through deep space it is, then.”

They kept at a steady pace, careful not to spend too much fuel and keeping an eye on the ship’s instruments and engines as they traversed the stars.

“You are stressed,” Maul stated as a matter of fact.

“Maybe because I’ve never had to fly in an empty mass with no real direction before.”

“We have our coordinates.”

“What about all the stuff in between? Who knows what we’ll run into? They don’t call this the Unknown Regions for nothing.”

“How did you expect to travel to the edges of the galaxy with the research you have been doing?”

Móni hunched into a sulk from the light tease, “Haven’t thought that far ahead…”

“Your skills in piloting may need some improvement to traverse as well.”

“If I can get to places without killing anyone, then that’s a pass in my books.”

There was a note of discrepancy in the way he held back a smirk and added nothing more against her defense.

Her concerns weren’t entirely misplaced, for Maul also shared them. Though his ease stemmed from having her with him and not needing to experience the emptiness of space alone.

“There’s something heading toward us.”

Móni’s attention was on the viewport, staring out into the void, yet the scanners gave no indication of any astronomical object approaching them.

“What do you see?”

She broke away, “Nothing.”

Maul selected the auto-pilot and put himself between her and the control panel, “You are pushing it away.”

“Am not,” she leaned back and mimicked his body language, arms crossed and unyielding.

A deep rumble from his chest filled the cockpit at his objection, “Móni.”

Móni searched for air to inhale at how he pronounced her name with the baritone in his voice and hoped he didn’t see the heat rising.

“Yeah, okay,” she sucked in and avoided eye contact, unable to compete anymore. “Promised anyway.”

With a heavy sigh she found a comfortable spot in the seat then shut her eyes to merge with her greatest nightmare.

“Do you require assistance?”

“I’ll be okay,” the uncertainty in the pause carried a different answer and one Maul responded to. He moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

They melded into the contact—their energies in sync—that accelerated their blood but also gave the other comfort from the simple act of intimacy.

Together they dived into the invisible ocean that surrounded and connected them, which guided their actions and formed the galaxy. The unlimited power of every star and the density of space pressed against them as their feelings searched across the great expanse. Then they came, the whispers of many formed into one, but Móni did not fall into their cries. She quieted them into silence and focused on the gathering mass of life forms riding on the particles and dust that shaped the cosmos.

When she pushed her focus to garner an image there were bursts of voices that cried out to her, belittling her consciousness and pressing further for her attention. Then his presence, although insignificant in comparison to the greatest entity in the universe, was one she gravitated easily to; feeling the solstice gales emanating from the Dark Side, yet what had become a source of comfort for her. She resurfaced and took charge of her mind, continuing forward and reaching for the collection… flock of beings. Wings. Tails.

The Force resurfaced again, stronger. Louder.

**_Brother._ **

There was a sharp pain on her shoulders that pulled her out and back into the starship.

“Maul?”

“Take me back.”

“What?”

He was pressing down, but she rose out of his hold with ease and faced a wild stare that clung with desperation.

“I heard him,” he gripped her arms with shaking hands and pulled her close, looking past her and for something she could not give. “Savage.”

Móni was crossed between sympathy and a flicker of irritation that she was no longer being looked at with care to make her heart flutter. But when she was overwhelmed with his guilt and pain, she returned to him by taking his hands into hers.

“Listen to me. Are you listening?” there was a glimmer of clarity, his attention now on her and not at something beyond. “I can’t connect with him. I don’t know how.”

“We can try.”

“Maul—”

“I only need—I only need a few moments.”

He nearly broke under her while she witnessed a massive burden he had never exposed to her before pounding him. Most of his weight was put in her arms and she held him up by the elbows.

“We don’t have much time before whatever is out there reaches us,” she didn’t mean to ignore the cycles of screams he had been holding in and wanted to express, but if they did nothing now then they were trapped in the middle of nowhere where communications were weak. “I promise we’ll talk more about it after, alright? We just need to get past this final hurdle and I’m all yours to pick at my hyper Force-sensitive brain.”

Maul was doubled over as if he had been sucker-punched in the stomach when he heard Savage calling out to him. A voice he only heard in memories touched his senses and it was that part of himself he had been missing being returned once again. A chance to mend what he lost. But Móni spoke with reason, her hands riding up his arms to straighten him out and bring him back to her face—open with concern on those thick eyebrows and lashes that shaped the curves of her eyes and thickened at their corners.

“Mynock.”

She tilted her head, “Huh?”

“Or grallocs. That was what we saw. Either one presents a problem.”

“Are they those things that eat power cables?”

“Yes.”

Once his composure returned Maul removed himself from her, sparks of fury surfacing from the poor display of weakness he failed to control—still couldn’t. Traces of the shock lingered in his bones and it took more conviction than he imagined to take a single step.

“We change trajectory and there won’t be any fuel left,” Móni eyed him as he disengaged the auto-pilot, the strengthening silence creating a familiar sensation when he was in a poor mood.

Maul was making his own calculations via the control panel before responding, “We power down the ship entirely and wait for them to pass. They will not react to a powerless object.”

She tugged on her lower lip, considering the scanners and the anomalies that were appearing nearby.

“How about getting at the edge of that stellar star? The ship won’t cool down in time to not catch their attention and the heat and radiation could mask our signature while also keeping them away.”

“Risky if the winds catch us.”

“Also risky to hope they’ll just fly by us and not notice a tasty lunch.”

After a moment’s deliberation, he took the ship’s controls and angled its direction to a luminescent cloud of orange and red that was in an endless inferno of flames collapsing in on itself. An alarm warned them of their proximity to the space object’s gusts of heat, but Maul followed the screen’s imagery and his instincts to get as close as the ship could handle without being torn to shreds. When vibrations resonated from their feet to their heads from the exploding star, he stopped the engines then left only enough power to keep them adrift and safe from being sucked in.

Then they waited, Móni sensing the winged creatures coming upon them soon.

She tapped her arm in a slow and awkward beat, “Did you want to talk about it?”

“There is nothing to speak of if you say you cannot contact him.”

The tone was overly gratuitous at her failure to meet a certain expectation. _His_ expectation. And it did not settle well with her.

“Excuse me for not being the Force’s commlink. I didn’t realize that was something required of me as well.”

“You made contact with the lasat and the boy’s father well enough.”

“I wasn’t the one who initiated the connection. Ravi came to me when I was under in the bacta tank and it may have been possible with U’lis because I was transferring his life force. I still don’t understand how it works. It just happens.”

“If you had continued to work alongside the Force, the essence of your powers and livelihood, and not consistently shut it out then you may have discovered an understanding.”

Móni heaved heavy breaths of anger through her nose and directed her glare out the viewport where a scold of grallocs flapped their sluggish wings under space’s density. Their long necks made no inclination of noticing their location and continued on in a dragging pace.

“You have no idea what it’s like to have millions of voices speaking to you at once. Randomly. Intervening in your daily life. Telling you how to live, what to do, what you’ve done wrong, what you’ve lost.” She returned to the real meaning behind Maul’s anger, resonating with his loss that was riddled with regret, “You don’t think I want to see my mothers? Tell them everything I wished I had before they passed? If I could, of course I would connect you with Savage.”

He stared out with her at the creatures, thankful for her advice to stay out of their route.

“You once asked if I had given myself time to mourn him,” he rubbed the top of his knuckles where she placed a kiss and reflected on how many times she bared her vulnerabilities to him without restraint. How her outlook changed afterward—how much freer she was once her burdens were relinquished. “I have not. Or, I cannot bring myself to. That I am undeserving of any peace for his passing which I was a part of. That our relationship was of master and apprentice, and not brothers.”

The cry pushed behind his closed mouth, but Maul held it in and repressed the water in his eyes with several blinks until he reverted into a sharp exhale of rage.

Móni closed their distance and pressed a finger to the back of his hand, asking for permission which he granted when he gave his palm to her.

“Were you with him when he died?” he nodded to her and she settled on the armrest, holding his hand on her lap. “Ravi lived in Coruscant’s underworld since she was a child and experienced death constantly, especially amongst friends she was raised alongside with under Druan. She told me once when someone’s life is out of your hands, the best thing you can do is not let them die alone. Because it’s in those final moments that matter when everything that was never said is passed through a feeling, a look, a touch. And they know. She said they’ll always know and take that with them.”

“Is this also your belief?”

“I believe it. Force-sensitive or not, every living being has the capacity to understand another’s emotions without words. I’m sure Savage felt yours. Why he’s trying to contact you, though, I can’t be sure. But the Force’s realm is complicated and impossible to navigate, especially when so many are calling out to you at once. Like Ravi and U’lis, he may connect with me at some point but don’t think he’s ready now.”

He was unmoving in her hands, wanting to share her beliefs and cleanse himself of the grief that had plagued him for endless cycles. The relief he sought didn’t come as quickly as he hoped, Savage’s final moments still sending shockwaves of remorse throughout his body. Maul could only hope that what he was incapable of expressing in words passed between them through the Force.

“Hey, look. Think that’s the last of them,” she pointed at the gralloc’s thinning formation with a scattered few who tailed behind the larger group. She removed herself from his side to slowly start up the ship, keeping her senses on alert for the creatures who were finally moving out of their trajectory.

Maul followed suit with lethargic movements, his mental energies drained and functioning at a limited capacity to assist in their voyage. He went to start the engines but hovered over the ignition.

“Móni.”

“Hm?”

“I did not mean to question your credibility. And although I cannot comprehend this conflict with the Force, I wish to understand it better.”

Móni slid away from the console and graced him with an attention he felt undeserving of. Then she bent close, breaking every barrier he had worked so hard to build with ease, and pressed her lips to his cheek; smooth, soft, and light. A flutter that numbed his body and set his face aflame.

“Thank you,” she returned to checking the scanners as if nothing had happened, but her face was angled away from view and masking the way she licked her lips and bit down with uncertainty.

It took several moments to start his brain then the starship, returning it to course. The ghost of her lips still lingered on his skin, an electrifying pulse spreading throughout his body and reaching the tips of his fingers with a tingling sensation. A not so horrible feeling and one Maul considered—hoped to experience again.

They remained in silence, gliding across the stars, but neither felt any discomfort from the other. A bit of awe maybe and wonderment at the attraction that continued to expand into their senses, and they settled into the other’s presence that gifted them solace without complaint. Content to have them near and having them all to themselves. That everything they shared was meant for no one else but each other.

Lwhekk was a mostly water-based planet, the regions of green land it did have were sparse and few and carried a tropical climate; similar to D’Qar’s only there were less heat and humidity from the cooler ocean breezes.

Móni stretched toward the gray sky with a wide grin at the sand between her toes and the cold, sea air in her lungs. Maul, however, took a brief analysis of his surroundings before focusing on the estate which stood dark and dominating at the edge of a cliff.

“Ready?” she stepped to his side, brimmed with her usual optimism he scarcely wondered where it came from.

“Are you?”

A shared glance was all that passed between them for her to gather every concern he wasn’t openly expressing.

“Better be, whether I like it or not.”

She made the first step with a bare foot onto a staircase that ascended to the entrance. Maul stepped in pace close behind, taking in the rolled-up cuffs of her pants that exposed her ankles and calves and the grains of sand that clung to her skin from when she jumped onto the beach. He admired the child-like qualities that was imbued into her character and what he rarely saw due to the pressures of Sidious, the Force, and herself that kept her true self at bay. The being whose aura shined brighter than any binary suns when there wasn’t a dark cloud left to block it.

“You are looking forward to what you may find.”

“Maybe. A bit. Mainly scared. Hard to tell anymore.”

“Keep your mind open for anything you may or may not expect,” he warned, wanting to keep her from any more pain they may be subjecting her to. “Including in regard to Sidious and your mother.”

The deep inhale of fortitude that steadied the emotions in the Force was the confirmation he needed that she was prepared for whatever she had to face. And her orange hues brightened at him as she spoke:

“This is what I waited my whole life for. And there’s nothing here to stop me.”

Maul gathered the empty sky, scarce vegetation, and rolling waves before returning to her, “Absolutely nothing.”

The winds carried off a burst of laughter he couldn’t help but chuckle alongside with.

“And in here is the back parlor where we house several recreational activities for our guests. It isn’t often used, not even by Master, but I keep constant maintenance over as it will not do to have layers of dust settle from disuse if he ever decides to entertain.”

The estate’s steward and head servant droid had greeted them with enthusiasm before Móni had the chance to alert the non-organic inhabitants of their arrival. It offered every hospitable option to them including food and beverage or a place to rest after their journey, but its overexcitement may have overloaded its circuits and never waited for a response; instead, giving them a tour of the palace that could have housed several families but where only a single being lived in for the remainder of their life.

Unlike the Vos’ estate, fashionable and lovely, Baelop’s was empty and dim. There was a basic blue hue in every section that only added to the morose quality of the place and may have reflected his mental state while living alone with cumbersome droids. Móni felt the remnants of his depression in the furniture he sat on or touched and how she sensed none of it in their brief interactions.

“What was Baelop’s reaction when you told him who I was?”

They were in the dining hall where a table for twelve overtook the space and was decorated to the bare minimum, and Maul welcomed the conversation rather than having to listen to the droid drabble on with useless information; biding his time until they were shown something remotely instrumental to their interests.

“I did not need to tell him. He knew exactly who you were when he was presented an image of you.”

“Who had an image of me?”

“The youngest Vos.”

“Eylanis was gathering information on me wasn’t she?”

“That may have been the intent.”

“I wonder on what specifically…?”

“Dwelling on it will solve little,” Maul stopped at an arrangement of flowers on a sofa table, the only hint of color in the room and where one was bright and large like a sunset. “Nothing detrimental was said in front of her to use against the Crimson Veil or you. She may not be aligned with the Empire, but she is playing a dangerous game with Sidious and one I will not involve myself in. Vos has already been made aware to communicate little with her from now on.”

Móni gave half of her attention to the droid who continued monologuing the dining hall’s history, only catching certain details like the dining table’s engravings on its side which she ran a finger across.

“Let’s hope you’re right.”

She caught Maul’s stare from across the room, and he was the first to tear away with doubt set deep in his brow ridge.

“As do I.”

His concerns pointed to her and not his crime syndicate.

“And here is the library,” the service droid led them into a sizeable area with shelves filled to the ceiling with a blue glow. “All data is recorded into holobooks or data-tapes. Subjects included, but not limited to, business, law practices throughout galactic eras, galactic history, architecture, medicine, science, religion—”

Móni slid back a holobook into its shelf, “What type of religion?”

“Anything Master could find on the Force. The Jedi Order contained most of the practices in their archives and rarely displayed any for public knowledge, so he looked into historical records of civilizations who have used the Force.”

Maul stepped close to her, feigning interest in any of the archived information, “Count Baelop knew Sidious was Sith. Or, at least a Force user who wasn’t practiced in the Jedi arts.”

“Then Mother must have…,” Móni searched her past and answered one question out of the myriad. “That’s why she kept me hidden and away from civilization. She knew what he was capable of.”

“Perhaps. Vos’ father also had data on the Force in his study.”

“Sounds like something major happened between them all.” Móni went to the droid who was circling around a holotable, spewing more information about what the library had on record. “Is there anything in here about the Count’s life and who he associated with in his college years on Naboo?”

The service droid kept its body forward, but its head spun back with a silent stare, “You would like to know Master’s history?”

“Yes.”

“I’m afraid I do not have access to any of those records. Master was quite particular when it came to subjects of the past. In fact, most of his time is spent in his study researching aspects of it that correlates closely to this collection.”

“Would you mind showing us his study?”

At this, it turned its body forward and gave Móni another blank stare, “It is against my programming to allow visitors other than Master and one other individual to enter his study.”

“Who’s the other individual?”

“A woman who lives in the Master’s study.”

Móni blinked fast, “Someone else lives here?”

Maul entered the conversation at the surprising information but eyed the droid with skepticism.

“Have you seen this being?”

The rumbling threat gave the droid some alarm that it may have said something wrong to upset its guests.

“I—I have not. I was not granted permission to enter the study either.”

Móni twirled a strand of hair with a finger in thought, “Can you take us just outside of it? I’m sure you know its general direction.”

Another timed moment of quiet before it responded, “That does not go against my programming.”

“What if I had the codes to access his study? Would you let us in then?”

The droid was continuously adamant about not allowing them entry and asked to wait for Baelop’s return; an important piece of news Móni wasn’t sure it was ready to hear quite yet.

“If you do, then I have no choice but to believe that Count Baelop has given you a pass to enter, otherwise I must stay true to Master’s wishes and deny you access.”

Móni put her hands on her hips and loomed over the door panel that required a sequence of numbers.

“You spent a good chunk of time with him,” she turned to Maul. “Any ideas?”

He waved a hand, the Force’s hum moving with him, and the console reacted with flashing lights and jumping numbers. The door slid open but there was another one closed behind it.

“Blast doors for one room?” Móni whistled with intrigue. “Even with lightsabers, it’ll take a bit to get through.”

Annoyance rose on Maul’s sneer and shot a glare at the droid, “How do you serve your master if you are not allowed entry into the only area he resides in?”

“My basic function is to maintain the estate at its highest quality. There are other service droids inside who cater to his needs.”

“Useless,” he grumbled under his breath then turned questioning at Móni holding back a smile.

“Starting to see a pattern with you and droids.”

Neither denying nor arguing the claim, Maul concentrated on the task at hand, “I suspect the sequence may be in relation to your mother.”

“Why would it be?”

“He had an obsession for her.”

Mildly disturbed, Móni grimaced, “Now I’m having second thoughts.”

“Of all the things that could possibly instill you with doubt, this does?”

“If it’s going to be a freaky kind of obsession, then it sure does.”

“Absurd,” Maul flat out denied, but then actually took the time to consider the ‘what if’—bemused by the idea entirely.

There was only one set of numbers Móni could think of that held any importance to her mother. With nothing else to lose she input the sequence and waited one long second for the panel to light green.

She didn’t need to look at Maul to know he was impatiently awaiting an explanation.

“I used my birthday.”

He was just as astonished as she was but remained level-headed for the both of them and asked the small questions needed to solve the larger mystery of her mother and Palpatine.

“How does the date relate with the count?”

“I have no idea,” her voice was quiet and unsure. “My birth wasn’t anything monumental. It was normal by human standards. Unless something else happened that day that impacted their lives so dramatically it had to be remembered.”

“That’s… not what I expected.”

The study was the first place they encountered in the entire estate where it felt inhabited with a desk that had a mess of data-pads, a holoprojector whose buttons have been faded from use, a bed (perfectly made by the droids that endlessly cleaned the area) that sat amid stacks of books, and an open closet filled with clothing. But it wasn’t the home within a mansion that baffled them but what filled an entire wall’s face.

Móni and Maul stared into the eyes of a woman with familiarity, though, each harbored different emotions for her and the pleasant smile that graced her rich features.

“Well… it’s not super freaky,” there was a wince of embarrassment but Móni sucked in a sharp, uncomfortable breath at the portrait of her mother. Seeing a perfect image of her outside of memories and dreams and was as tangible she could be beyond death, was almost frightening.

“Móni.”

“What?”

Maul reached for her but only went as far as to hover over a wet cheek he dared not touch.

She wiped at her face fast, “Sorry, just didn’t expect to see… Let’s start looking, yeah?”

There wasn’t time for Maul to give a reaction when Móni dived behind the desk to scan the datatpads for anything substantial then tossing them aside, keenly avoiding her mother.

It was moments like those Maul wished he had the social competence she had to comfort her—the way she was able to impart her kindness into words so easily. He fumed at his own ignorance and the inability to offer her anything in return by pulling a datapad off a pile in an aggressive tug.

“Go ahead and look for what you need for the crime syndicate,” she sat in a seat, back facing the wall. “I’ll see what I can find about his past.”

Unable to argue against her logic and _his_ reason for being there, Maul took the suggestion by leaving her mother’s past in her hands and tried not to feel completely useless.

Móni exaggerated a loud sigh and smacked a datapad onto the desk that was followed by a forehead.

“There’s so much to go through,” she groaned.

In the other end of the room and unbothered by Zahri’s portrait was Maul scanning through transmission logs at the holoprojector of any beings Baelop was in contact with; notably, those that carried complex encryptions to keep from being tracked. Unlike Móni, he was making impressive progress in the investigation.

He shut off the projector, “It has been several hours. We can continue after some rest.”

The moment she raised her head and smacked her hands on the desk’s smooth surface, Maul didn’t bother to hold his breath in anticipation at whatever other plans she clearly had in mind.

“I’m hungry. Let’s have that droid take us to the kitchens.”

She jumped up and saw herself out, content to be out of her mother’s lifeless gaze.

Maul should have known that it was the simple things that could make her face beam in the way she was doing now. Bright and beautifully expressive, Móni slid her upper body over the island’s gleaming surface that looked as if it had never been touched by a hand or food particle.

“Have you seen anything more perfect than this?”

He scarcely noticed the appliances and utensils in the area, his focus solely on her.

“I believe so.”

It took Móni several seconds longer than it should have to catch his meaning, but the long gaze and smoothed expression that held not an ounce of anger directed straight at her sent her stomach aflutter with exhilaration.

“U-um,” she had to remember how to breathe again. “Are you hungry too?”

A slight shrug was what he gave, gliding a finger across the surface to gain some sense of whatever she was so enamored about.

“I am not against eating a meal prepared by you.”

“The Mandos weren’t the only ones who missed my cooking?”

The smugness should have sparked irritation, but Maul took more out of the statement than either of them intended.

“Not nearly as much as our conversations.”

The kitchen’s island served as an obstacle between them, but also an open space to lay down what has been left unsaid for far too long.

“It was hard, you know?” Móni fiddled with the cuff of her long sleeve, eyes down and nose twitching with bashfulness, “Being away.”

Nothing else to support or hold himself together with, he sought the only comfort he had in his posture and clasped his hands behind his back.

“The distance was not… something I wish to experience again.”

She wanted to smile at the statement but was overcome by another thought, “I didn’t mean to—"

“Do not apologize,” he was sure as steel and came around to meet her. “I know who was at fault and it was the one who failed to acknowledge you because I refused—I refused to face the truth.”

“And what truth is that?” she nudged gently to possibly hear what she only felt in precious fragments from his emotions.

As Móni expected, he regressed to keep close to what he was reluctant to share and struggled to formulate anything cohesive from his saturated mind.

However, Maul was a being who understood himself better than what he let on, his bane being how closely he held to the Dark Side and Palpatine’s teachings; though he is in stages of releasing the latter.

He freed his hands of their grip and examined for a moment their lack of gloves; the routine of having them on broken since he dreamt of thick strands between his fingers again. To feel her without barriers.

“That I am no longer alone.”

“No,” she agreed and held her hand out for him to take. “No, you are not.”

“And…”

Móni squeezed when his thumb grazed gently over her skin, crossed between wonder and curiosity that there was more to say.

“And,” he repeated with a swallow. “I would like to be kept at your side.”

“That goes without say. But unfortunately for you, you got the short end of the deal and got stuck with a _mischievous woman_ ,” she dropped her voice to match his tone and concise speech pattern.

Maul blinked first with astonishment then flashed a grin with hints of intuition, “Like now?”

She mocked ignorance in the subtleties of her body language and hooded gaze, “No idea what you mean.”

“You are plotting something.”

“How can you tell?”

He gently pressed a finger to the corner of her mouth, “The crooked grin and there is a striking level of determination in your eyes.”

She massaged her mouth with concern, “Crooked? Really?”

“Never fails to give away your intentions.”

“Oh, well,” she scrambled for a comeback and blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Your lip and nose twitch when you’re super annoyed!”

And with that she sped off into the storage compartment to rummage through whatever the kitchen had stocked to get her greedy hands on, leaving behind a frazzled zabrak who was still comprehending her peculiar observations on him.

Not a moment later Móni returned with that very grin Maul had mentioned earlier and an armful of frozen packages and canisters.

“Guess who’s going to be my under-chef?”

“No.”

“Yes!”

He leaned against a kiln, suddenly feeling very tired, “Móni.”

“You!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be this assassin who’s good with any weapon?”

“This is a utensil, not a weapon.”

“I’ve used it as a weapon before.”

Maul paused mid-slice, the diced white allium all in different width and lengths; filled with intrigue.

“Have you now?”

Móni flipped the knife so its blade was between her fingers, “There was this bantha cur who tried to slip out without paying and I ran out of the kitchens and whoosh!”

She flung the knife with precision, striking a hanging pot directly in its center.

“Obviously this happened when I lived on the Abolition. Couldn’t get away with that sort of stuff with the topsiders on Coruscant. Although, did wrangle a few deadbeats in an alley a few times.”

He analyzed his blade in different angles, doubly impressed with her, “With your skills, you would have made a fierce bounty hunter.”

Móni blew a loud lip trill of disagreement, “Involves too much traveling that would keep me away from Kyp. Plus, I don’t get along with people in that line of work. I’m too ‘rambunctious’, some would say. Also, I’m not that good at following orders. Gotta peel that first,” she pointed at the zingiber he was ready to hack away at.

“Are there not devices to expedite this tedious process?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

No point in arguing against an impenetrable mindset, Maul withheld a scowl and did as he was told.

“That’s not the cona allium. That is,” Móni directed Maul to gather what she needed to sauté the needed herbs. “We’re putting the pantoran fungi later. Right, so now we pour the stock, citrus leaves, and some salt. Wait. NO. Not a handful! A few pinches! Gave me a heart attack.”

Maul dropped the clump of shaved halite into its container, masking the mistake with blank indifference and gathering the correct amount into his fingers.

He was silent for the majority of the process, following her instructions without much expression except deep concentration; listening, observing, and processing every one of her movements. Though, Móni caught him from her peripheral staring at her rather than the food more than once. Not that she was complaining, but the attention caught her off-guard enough times where she made a few mistakes of her own and confused some of the ingredients.

During the moments where they waited for the combined components to cook and infuse their flavors were also spent without conversation and to clean up the kitchen. Instead (not completely aware of it happening) they stroked the other’s existence in the Force; whether it was done as a reminder or an affirmation of their feelings neither could say. It was a simple indulgence now that there was nothing left to hide, even if Maul maintained certain amounts to himself. The small amounts he did expose Móni entirely embraced and held them close.

No seating was found due to droids being the only ones who used the facility and Baelop possibly never having put a single step into the place. So, they arranged empty cold-crates against a wall to sit and eat hot food. Their conversation was light and warm, filling their stomach with flutters and a successful meal. More than once Maul’s face stretched into comforted pleasure at everything he was surrounded by: quiet, solace, peace, and with the only other living sentient that mattered.

“Have you contacted Rook or Gar?”

“Not as of yet.”

Empty bowls were placed at their feet and they were leaned back with satisfaction.

“Figuring out how to contact them from here?”

“The Count was extremely cautious with who and how he contacted individuals. Most likely to hide from Sidious’ prying ears and eyes. The sequence needed to make safe transmissions is difficult to crack, and I will simply have to do so from the ship instead.”

Maul’s hand twitched at his side and made passing glances at hers, which Móni gladly gathered into her hold.

“At least someone is making progress. I think my best bet right now is starting with any dissertations on the Force. There are a lot of articles on it in those datapads but I’m sure he’s conducted his own findings. Hopefully, I can trace them back to where it started.” She absently traced a black ring tattooed on his pointer finger, “Reading through everything, it’s not hard to see the guy was a total mess.”

“He was isolated for most of his life with only a portrait and droids to keep him stable.”

“I don’t think I can go in that room again,” she squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t hurt to see her. It’s just strange and surreal. I never imagined I would ever see her again since I own nothing to prove my mothers’ existence. Only brief recollections of the past.”

“I will carry out what you need,” humor stretched his features. “In here?”

She laughed, “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slept in a kitchen. When I was homeless had to gather enough credits as a busser to find a roof over my head.”

“I have seen the struggle and division in Coruscant’s caste system, but never have I experienced it directly.”

“It was definitely a culture shock. Going from swinging off trees, swimming in whatever water source, nothing owned and everything shared to urban life is definitely not my first choice,” Móni sighed, doing her best not to sound vindictive. “You were trained to acclimate in whatever environment you ended up in, huh?”

“Environment. Situations. Obstacles. Enemies. Anything to be the perfect hunter.”

“Do you force yourself to forget your childhood?”

His tension extended into her arm and didn’t move—didn’t blink—until he realized he clamped his hold on her. The immediate response was to relent but she hardly noticed the pressure, giving Maul the incentive that he could hold on as tight as he needed to.

“Perhaps. The link between me and the past was one I severed long ago to be free of any limitations. What I experienced fabricated what I am. Made me strong. Helped me survive. Not until Savage appeared in my life was it ever considered—that there were aspects of it taken away from me. Until your persistence on unveiling it did I see another perspective on how many years of my life was used for a purpose that wasn’t my own, but Sidious’.”

“If you could change any of it, would you?”

Maul examined her downcast expression and how she intently stared at their entwined fingers, taken out of the conversation and deep in her thoughts where she revisited parts of the life she wished would have been done differently. Her mouth turned sour and he could only suspect where her anger was aimed at—where her blame always led to.

“No,” she met his fortitude with surprise. “I made my choices. With regret comes reluctance and hinders one’s will to move forward. And I will not be weakened; not by my choices nor my past.”

He did not expect pain to pierce his senses and he sat up in alarm, waiting for her to state plainly what he may or may not have said to cause an intense reaction.

“When I said to not make me regret choosing you, I didn’t mean it,” Móni shook her head at the words that should have never formed. “Because I don’t. No matter what.”

Maul untangled himself from her hold and tremored at an action he was uncertain of performing. But he plunged into the moment and how right it felt—to take her perfect face in his hands. His thumbs grazed her cheeks as he pulled her in, admiring her round nose and the way her lips parted with shock and the orange twilight in her eyes. He pressed his forehead to hers and breathed her in, imprinting into memory the texture of her skin under his fingertips and her explosive emotions.

It took every brain cell for Móni to compute his touch and how it felt he was holding her entire being in the palms of his hands; lifting her burden and replacing it with everything he held close. His adoration filled her to the core and the guilt became nonexistent.

They pulled apart, Maul pleased to have been able to wipe away the crease between her eyebrows, and Móni elated at being held so closely and soaking in the thick warmth encompassing her cheeks.

“We should retire for the evening,” he broke the enchantment. “There is much to do when dawn arrives.”

“When you say ‘we’ you mean me. I know you’re not going to get a wink of sleep until you solve that comm unit.”

A hum rumbled from his chest and he rubbed the area under the lower eyelid, “It is important to have it solved.”

“I know, I know.” She took his hands, reluctant to have them gone, and pressed a quick kiss to his fingers, “Alright. See you in the morning.”

He did not leave her form until the automatic door blocked his sight then felt her presence recede deep into the estate where it stopped in the general area where they were shown their quarters.

Once their dishes were collected and put into the conveyor wash, Maul rubbed his face to clear the buzz under his skin and quiet the racing hearts to search for the remnants of the Dark Side that was always there. Biding its time to ensnare him into its jowls and never let go. Tranquility was a luxury and although the sparse moments with Móni were precious he could not be distracted by her fluttering lashes, bouncing curls, and affections. There was a part of him that wanted to go deeper—far deeper into this whirl of emotions he willingly put himself in, but that was a dangerous path. One he wasn’t prepared to confront. Not when there was an Empire to bring to its knees and make Sidious suffer.

_Yes…_ , Maul found it. A new source to add to the ones compiling one after the other.

It grew, the detestation. The rage. The _fear_. His blood quickened at the fuel for a new resolve.

Not only would destroying Sidious ease Móni’s anxieties, but it would be revenge for what he had done to her. Made her suffer through and continued to do so. What Sidious had done to _them_.

When it was all over, he will have Sidious’ and his pawn’s heads at the base of their thrones and at their feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	11. Always Two

Móni didn’t cross the threshold into Baelop’s study. She didn’t have to see her mother to feel the strain of her immobile gaze through the shadows and directed at her. Once Maul came out with a day’s worth of data storage devices and datapads, she made herself scarce; not wasting a second longer in the vicinity.

Following the halls from memory when Baelop’s droid gave them an unsolicited tour, Móni entered a conservatory that overlooked the ocean’s endless horizon and gold sun filtering through transparent panes that made the walls and ceiling. With a heavy drop into a plush sofa bench, she sank into the soft fabric and took a breath to admire the view from a prison made of riches and stale comfort; one constructed by Palpatine for a lonely Count who suffered in silence alone. She imagined how scarcely he would take the time to fill his days looking at the shimmering waters and waves crashing on a quiet beach. And she couldn’t blame him if he didn’t. The image was beautifully and horrifically empty.

“ **We’ve sent units to certain routes we think the Empire has been using and track their traffic**.”

Lounged into the pilot’s seat, Maul listened to the miniature hologram of Kast and Saxon, updating him on reports he missed in the week spent in space travel and Aldimune. And Kast was bothered, her usual stone-cold exterior showing cracks of indignation.

“Plot any discoverable routes and capture any access codes needed to traverse. And do not inform any of the syndicates of your findings. If they wish to make use of our information they will have to earn it.”

“ **It will be done, my Lord** ,” she inclined her head, eyes darting away fast with a thought.

“ **And, finally** ,” Saxon picked up. “ **Vos arrived at Kalevala Spaceworks and is prepping to begin his...** **yacht?** ”

“Grant him access to the syndicates. Let him take what he needs to keep him satisfied and productive.”

After a stiff nod, Kast straightened, “ **Is there anything else you require from us**?”

“That will be all,” he eyed her, and she shrunk under the sharp scrutiny. “Unless there is something more you wish to impart.”

There was a demand in the question which gave Kast no choice but to divulge what she hoped to keep under wraps a little longer, “ **We have discovered the ones who sabotaged M** **óni’s droid. What will you have us do with them**?”

“Have they attempted another attack?”

“ **None. Their intent was specifically for her to see**.”

“Who ordered them?”

“ **They refuse to say**.”

“What methods have you used to loosen their tongues?” Kast sucked in a hesitant breath and it was all Maul needed to gather her reluctance. He leaned forward, lips curled back in a snarl to bare teeth with the intent to gnash at flesh. “Break them until their last breath if necessary. There is more at stake than someone undermining the apprentice. There is someone who seeks control by removing any obstacles and their biggest one is her, which is why they haven’t gone after me directly. Yet.”

“ **Yes, sir** ,” Saxon straightened with respect and was ready to sever the transmission, but Kast halted him.

She stroked the red markings on the helmet under her arm that defined her allegiance, then met her lord, “ **Many, if not all, of the clan members are aware of the small division taking place amongst us. It comes to us as no surprise, however; given the abilities M** **óni has. But I assure you, those who side with her outnumber those who are against her**.”

“And which are you?”

She locked on with an unwavering stare, her answer definite, “ **I side with you, my lord**.”

Satisfied, Maul disregarded her and waited expectantly for Saxon who flashed a furtive look before easing into the permissive display of character.

“ **Like Rook says** ,” he was distracted by a thought before continuing, “ **we side with you, Lord Maul**.”

Maul held Saxon in a glare, the Mandalorian shifting attention from the discomfort, and found nothing that gave away any hidden intent.

“I expect results within a standard week.”

He severed the transmission and leaned back, absently observing the pale blue expanse meeting pristine water beyond the viewport. It was a strange shift in the environment for Maul who has never been exposed to extensive periods of tranquility. This may have been the longest he’s gone without listening to a crime leader’s laments or calculating the syndicate’s next order of attack. Now it was a matter of waiting to gather the benefactors who would elevate Crimson Veil’s status in the underworld and rival the Empire’s power. Though their greatest obstacle had yet to be conquered, and that was Móni’s part in Sidious’ schemes. Having her with Maul was an advantage but also holding a small liability as she was constantly being tracked.

Precautions needed to be met in the future when he tasked her for missions and how she executed them to not draw unwanted attention if there were bounties on her head—another complication to look into.

The galaxy was truly out to get her and as their connection strengthened and the longer they spent together and understood one another, Maul was beginning to see the burdens she had been struggling to hold up for cycles. And he believed she allowed the weight of it to crush her more than once.

Approaching the estate, there was a bright, transparent box that extended out of its gloomy façade and held Móni in. He captured subtle movements of her head and arms reaching in a stretch.

No matter what came their way and whoever they faced, Maul would fight to keep her at his side and lift the weight of the universe with her if need be. He refused to see her broken again.

It was well into the evening on the holoprojector’s chronometer and Maul finally powered it down after rifling through endless logs and encryptions, but progress was coming along smoothly. Another standard day and he should have an abundance of beings who would serve his cause well.

The portrait that had been incessantly staring distracted him several times in the day’s course. Zahri’s tight curls were shaved close to her skull, and her long neck and slender form exuberated an elegance that was not passed down to her daughter; Maul suspecting the devaronian heritage was what coursed through Móni’s veins. However, the decorative plant life and florals that bloomed in the backdrop was an indication of where her fascination for nature came from.

Stress knotted his stomach when he relived the nightmare he subjected Móni to. The fire that burned her home and Sidious’ involvement with her mother’s death. Somehow, as he looked into the dark eyes of warmth, Maul suspected her suffering must have been immense. As someone who had personally stood side by side with a being who was more monster than man and felt the pressures of his control without needing to lift a finger, there was no telling what atrocities Sidious put her through that she had to raise Móni in seclusion.

He was drawn to her in a way he could not understand, and Maul could blame it on the shared memories, but it was more than the observations of an outsider who watched the domestic lifestyle with foreign eyes. It was a fleeting wish to have had the opportunity to meet her. The one who raised the woman he had learned to…

As he stared down her sleeping form, storage devices in muddled heaps on the floor, by her feet and head, he could not form the word to describe the connection between them. All he knew was what he felt and how they aligned with her emotions; three hearts beating in harmony.

He shifted the stray curl out of her lashes and admired the round nose and parted lips where soft snores escaped from. And he listened to the deep rhythm of her breaths as he organized the mess and sunk to the floor, back reclined against the sofa bench, and scrolled through where she left off on her search.

Too far gone in the blocks of text to notice the subtle movements behind him, Maul jolted when he felt a light pressure against a horn that reached his skull and faced bright innocence with a perplexed stare.

“Sorry. Didn’t like that?”

Móni curled her finger away and waited expectedly for his response, guilt pulling down on her features.

There wasn’t an immediate reply, Maul deliberating on the sensation that continued to send vibrations down the bones of his arms and fingers.

“It was not… unpleasant,” he selected the word with care, uncertain still. “Simply new.”

A desire sparked in his body when she latched onto him in a long stare that held mysterious intents of their own. Their chests heaved in sync, containing the loud breathing to a minimal but the conservatory’s silence made them louder than either expected. Maul felt he could explode from a force expanding from the insides, but he had no way of releasing it. Sharing them through the Force and small touches weren’t enough to express what he felt. There was a craving he didn’t know how to satisfy and it was gnawing at him at an excruciating pace.

Móni’s brain shut down and wanted to follow her natural instincts at the pressing energy drawing her in, but Maul shattered any illusions when he broke away with a stiff turn and glued himself to the datapad in front of him.

“Have you found anything of use?”

She slunk back into the cushions, disappointment evident in her ticking finger and smack of her lips, “Think so.”

Maul followed her point to a datachip which he inserted into the datapad. After several moments he lowered the devices with a disturbance set in his brow.

“You know what those things are?” Móni sat up fast, edging close to peer over his shoulder at the images of cubes and pyramids.

“Holocrons,” his statement was more of a question she had no answer for. “This type of information is not easy to come across. These are Jedi and Sith elements that are not known to the public for the data these devices contain are teachings and highly classified insights into the…”

He straightened and an understanding gleamed off his gold irises that had Móni lean in with suspense.

“What?”

“This is it,” he stood fast. “Holocrons are information-storage devices that have a millenniums worth of ancient knowledge, including on the Force.”

“Where can we find one?” her enthusiasm didn’t match Maul’s, not quite grasping the significance of a holocron yet, but the rare display of excitement from the moody crime lord certainly got her attention.

“That is the obstacle,” he held his chin in quiet calculation then dropped his arms with a deep exhale through his nose. “The Jedi may have had theirs in the temple on Coruscant.”

Móni jerked back, “That’s a definite no. Not that it was ever accessible to begin with. What about a Sith one?”

The anger settled over his eyes again and there was a quiver for an impending sneer but withheld it when he plopped beside her on the bench.

“Taking you to a Sith temple will expose you to Sidious. He will certainly feel a disturbance and possibly your presence.”

“Hand that over,” she beckoned for the datapad. “Here’s the name of the guy who’s been finding all this info for Baelop. He’s a scholar at the university Palpatine and my mother went to. Have you come across him in any of the transmission logs?”

With a memory as impeccable as his fighting forms, Maul hardly took a moment to think it over.

“No.”

“How did Baelop know of their existence in the first place? Could it be there was one involved with Mother?”

“That is a possibility I have considered as well.”

“So, I’ve been thinking… maybe we can find more information in Naboo.”

Móni expected flat out rejection or a prolonged explanation of the pros and cons of traveling to Palpatine’s homeworld, not quiet rage that could combust at any given moment.

He placed his elbows on his knees and covered the seething hate behind entwined fingers, but the red hue engulfing his eyes was the only hint she needed of Maul’s state.

“Is that a no for Naboo?”

“Because it is his homeworld the Empire’s presence will be that more prominent than in other planets.”

“They’re not going to be looking for us there, so as long we keep a low profile we should be okay.”

“The university is located in Theed, the planet’s capital. Keeping a low profile will not be as simple you believe it would be. There is also the issue of our craft. Because it is Imperial they will be pinged of our arrival once we reach the atmosphere and raise their suspicions.”

“I’m sure there’s another starship here for us to use and we don’t have to find a place in Theed to bunker for a while. I’m sure there are outposts on the outskirts of the city we can stay at and travel to the university for maybe a day or two and be done with it.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“Guess so. But I have a feeling this isn’t about the Empire’s presence. What’s the real problem?”

Maul pressed against his thighs and glared at the prosthetics that had become his livelihood.

“It was where I lost everything.”

The subject of his legs was one she never broached, having been sufficient what Avin knew and told her, and she never pressed Maul about the specifics knowing the matter was altogether delicate and would spiral him into a fit of unchecked rage. And the prolonged silence reinforced how he was still unprepared to put the experience into words.

“You hungry?” she bent forward to force his lowered gaze onto her. “Let’s go eat. And being my under-chef doesn’t have to be an option.”

There was a slow regression of the Dark Side returning to its natural hum and the blood in his eyes fading back to their edges, but the haunts of his past clung and weighed on his back for he was utterly unmoving; only the tempered rise and fall of his shoulders.

It was a gander, but Móni felt their tiny progressions of intimacy would allow her to perform one more act that didn’t involve touching a horn.

 _The temptation was so bad, though_ , at the opportunity to scare him.

She rested a hand on his back and his automatic response was tensing his muscles. But rather than pull away she rubbed small circles and he closed his eyes to hone his senses onto the spot she was massaging that melted his body.

“The option can remain open,” he rumbled softly, looking her way with a calmer face but the lines of fury not completely gone. He worked his mouth for more to say, the heat of his aura clashing with hers and Móni raised a hand at him to stop.

“We can talk about it again in the morning. C’mon,” she helped him up and linked their arms. “I’m starving.”

Maul’s precision with the blade was a monumental achievement as if he had never struggled with it the day prior and sliced away as fast as she did. While it took her months to acquire the skill, she pouted a bit at the success but understood he was someone who had been trained to pick up things quickly and efficiently.

He had relapsed into fuming reservation, following the tasks Móni gave him without the usual quips of complaints, only having a half a mind put into the cooking while the rest was preoccupied with her travel request she was sure. And even after she distributed the short, brown grains into bowls then topping them with a poultry, egg, and broth mixture, Maul chewed slowly while his attention was taken away by something beyond her and the estate. Eventually, he stopped and stared into the half-eaten meal.

Móni shoveled down the rest of her food and set the bowl loud on the floor, bringing him back to the present.

“Let’s go to the beach! The last time I walked on one was in Devaron and the moon is full, so there’s some good scenery,” the grin reached her ears when he responded with a reluctant scowl. “Would you rather brood away the rest of the night? At least do something to keep you occupied.”

She jumped off the crate and beckoned him with some encouraged begging and light taps on his arm until he finally rose to follow.

“Hold up. If you’re not going to finish that, I will.”

He stared at her shoveling what was left in five solid seconds, impressed at the speed and analyzing far too long at the way she licked her lips.

“Now I’m ready.”

It didn’t take long for Móni to be plastered with joy at the ocean’s soft waves sparkling under the moon’s white rays. The touch of wet sand and cold water against her feet transported her to a time when there was nothing but Devaron’s calls whistling on crisp breezes and danced with her and her mothers on the shores. She saw it then, a mirage of memories when Momma taught her how to spear for fish and Mother lounging on the sands with a sun hat.

“We didn’t go to the beach very often. There was a clan that lived by its shores and Mother didn’t like me interacting with them. I got so jealous when I saw the kids playing together and I couldn’t be a part of it. The games looked so much fun! Probably why I liked shockball so much, now that I think about it. But, now I know why she did what she did, I guess.”

Maul kept on the drier edge of the shore, hands clasped behind his back and brows shadowing his eyes in dark contemplation. He did, however, regard her thoughtfully; the low vibration of his voice filling up his prolonged silence.

“Does it not pain you? Reliving the past?”

“It does. In the span of time between my arrival on Coruscant and working under Druan, I never spoke about them. Tried not to think of them. But Ravi opened me up and told me to remember and cherish those memories because they were the ones who shaped who I am today. That they are still a part of me.”

“And the ones where you watched them pass on to the Force?”

Móni halted to better grasp the question, “You mean how have I moved past the painful memories?”

The firm line of his mouth that refused to respond was enough of an answer as any. She took a deep, salty inhale to delve into the touchy topic, “I haven’t. Don’t think I ever will. It goes hand in hand with your perspective on regret, really. We have to learn to accept what happened and adapt to a life with the choices we made. Move forward. That’s all we can do. I think the key is learning to let go…”

He worked his jaw and narrowed his eyes, not appreciating the insinuation but when she popped an eyebrow at him that was enough for Maul to snap back.

“It’s not so simple. My losses and what I had to go through to get to where I am was all because of _him_.”

“Never said it was easy. And don’t think I don’t have an idea of what you had to suffer through. Of course, I know,” the rigidity in her tone had Maul clamp his mouth shut, for she was rarely ever strict with him. “But he was doing what he had to as well. The two of you were part of these ancient orders that have been enemies for—I don’t know—ever! You may have lost the fight, but you survived and got your freedom from Palpatine’s rule. Now that’s the true victory right there. If you would have won you’d still be his puppet.”

Not wanting to accept the logic, Maul scoffed and continued their pace with heated steps.

“At a great cost.”

“Everything comes at a cost. My abilities are a cost. Maybe even my freedom.”

“Would you pay it? Whatever it may be?”

His steps slowed when Móni lagged behind, a shadow of concern casting a stark shadow over half her features, while the other was illuminated in a soft, white glow.

“I think so.” She took a sharp inhale and stared back with hard conviction, “Yes.”

Maul unclasped his hands and displayed a frown tinged with pain at the steel feet that held him upright, “Is it truly as bad as you make it out to be? Your power? That you would reach the ends of the universe to relinquish it and make the necessary sacrifices?”

He knew the answer when she sunk into a smile that only expressed utter sorrow.

“It’s worse.”

 _That expression_ , Maul had to turn away but not seeing it didn’t stop him from feeling it. He simply hadn’t the faintest idea of how to relate and understand this unseen torture she was subjected to daily. And there was nothing he could do for her except…

He took in the scenery for the first time. How quiet it was.

“Do you hear it now? The Force?”

“A bit. It comes and goes but I’ve almost mastered drowning it out.”

 _Never a moment of peace_ …

A deep hum expanded his chest at a decision he never expected to make, “What do you hope to find in Naboo?”

“Mother’s past. The scholar. Maybe even find something on Palpatine. Whatever happened with all of them, it happened there, and I do think we’ll find what we need; whether it be holocron, person, or just answers.”

“Is there nothing sufficient here?”

“It’s a mess,” she slumped with exhaustion. “Baelop was obsessed with the Force, and not a lot of the information is accurate. I mean there are some things dating back to the Old Republic and some ancient sentient species but nothing concrete.”

“What is this species?”

“Zeffi? Zeffel? There’s little to nothing on them. May have been Force users.”

“Why do they not interest you?”

“How’s a race that’s been dead for eons going to help me? The native chieftain on D’Qar was alive during the Old Republic and his way of being helpful was giving me cryptic messages, which does _not_ help believe it or not. I’d rather stick with things closer to date, thanks. Don’t roll your eyes at me!”

The remnants of humor tugged on his lips and faced her properly, “I am not opposed to traveling to Naboo, but my warnings about the Imperial presence should be a cause for concern.”

“I know. We’ll be careful. I mean, we are a pretty invulnerable duo if I do say so myself.”

Finally achieving what she had been aiming for hours, Móni grinned at the light chuckle.

“Yes. Yes, you are…”

There was nowhere to put what he felt when they ensnared each other in a lingering gaze that held every emotion they shared. Their heart rates elevated at the sheer intensity of it and Maul couldn’t break away as if he was being sucked into dawn’s early light that shined so fiercely with an eagerness he couldn’t interpret. His body wanted to react with a need to have her closer.

“I’m what?” she asked breathlessly; mesmerized by how the moon poured into the gold irises and made his horns gleam like a crown was resting on his head.

Maul blinked out of the trance and was confused for a moment, trying to register what it was he was saying before. Then, instead of processing it in his mind first, his mouth moved on its own accord and spilled it out.

“Beautiful.”

When she opened her mouth in shock, it was then he registered what was said aloud and wanted to lock himself away in the ship, which wasn’t too far off from where they were, and never come out.

But when she huffed a laugh, blowing him off, the embarrassment disappeared and was instead slightly offended; unsure of how to take the unexpected reaction.

“Maybe when I was in a dress and had nicer hair,” she patted the frizzing locks.

The doubt and insecurities were what propelled Maul forward, stepping into the sand and muck he did his best to avoid and claimed her face in his hands—raising them across her cheeks, temples, then entangling them into the soft curls.

Móni lost the ability to breathe and move for he had her completely ensnared.

“Always.”

There was no doubt about it this time, the sincerity, and she wanted to turn away to hide the rising blush, but he refuted the avoidance.

“I believe you,” she couldn’t take the proximity anymore. Her heart about ready to burst out of her chest and the chilled winds did nothing to help lower the increasing heat in her body.

What happened next may have been due to the growl of teasing suspicion that sent vibrations up his arms and to her head or the quirk in his smile or the gentle caress of his fingers on her scalp, but her mind shut down any logical processors that would have fired blaring alarms to have some self-control. Unfortunately, she was a woman who had little.

She leaned in to tap her lips to the corner of his mouth, finding that tiny speck of control he trained her to develop. Then she waited for the reaction to slowly unfold and it wasn’t one she expected.

The touch was electrifying and created a current Maul could not escape from, sucked into her face and skin and lips and everything she was and represented. He knew what it would mean if he gave in—if he gave into weakness. But by the Force and stars and planets, he was bound to a want and need that had driven him to near insanity since the moment he first laid eyes on her and she had proven her strength was one that outmatched his own. He could finally admit that now. That their bonds reinforced what he was fighting for, that she had become part of the reason to annihilate the Empire and bring her the peace she had been searching for.

He followed her when she pulled away, not allowing the escape she intended, and pressed gently against her mouth. Her gasp of surprise hit him then pushed against his lips with more fervor, the intensity of her desires surrounding him in an explosion that had his pulse racing. And it poured out of him when the kiss deepened, how he wanted to express everything to her without feelings or simple touches; the fire of his passions given to her freely.

Their lips melded and synced, breathy and hot and she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling and pinning him against her; the iron grip tracing up along his back to grasp the fabric. And his hands ran down the sides of her face, jaw, then neck where he rubbed the skin and focused on the experience of her sweet taste and plump softness of her lips.

They were no longer on the beaches of Lwhekk or the galaxy or universe. It was only the two of them, far away from duties and purpose and enemies. Nothing mattered but the longing in her hold and the affection in his touches.

When they finally pulled apart to catch their breaths, Móni held a being who was in a heated haze—a gloss fog masked Maul’s eyes and his hearts thrummed hard against her heaving chest. She slid her hands to his front, feeling every groove of his muscles under the long sleeve and riding up his stomach, hard chest, and round shoulders. As she did so paying close attention to how he shut his eyes to absorb every sensation into memory and his head lulling to the side when she reached his jaw, granting her access to every part of him.

Then she placed a finger at the base of the center horn on his head, tracing the tattoo that split his forehead, between the brow ridge, and down his nose where a diamond formed at the tip of it. She continued to his lips and pressed several fingers to the lines that fell from his lower lip and down his chin.

“Been wanting to do that?” he played back her words, but unlike his defensive reaction, she openly expressed her guilt.

“You have no idea.”

“Satisfied?”

“Nope,” she gave that crooked smile which he grazed with the tips of his fingers.

“Then what will?”

“Can’t ever be. Gonna have to do it all the time.”

He chuckled into the palm of her hand that cradled his face and touched his lips to it, “Very well.”

Maul took her hands into his, only realizing then a rare stretch on his face that had been there for quite some time.

“Wanna start heading back or stay out here?”

He inclined his head whilst humming a decision deep from his chest that touched Móni’s. Maul planted a feathered kiss on her cheek then near her mouth and finally rested on her lips—light and small—before pulling back but keeping their interlocked fingers.

“A bit longer,” he tugged her along, not caring that his cybernetics would need a thorough cleaning later to rid of the sand that had gotten lodged into the joints or caked his soles.

They hardly noticed the time that moved close to daybreak, spurts of conversation and laughter filling the space around them and blocking out the galaxy; taking in every precious moment given to them to pass on what the other already knew and selfishly absorbed. What was theirs and theirs alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a Happy Chrismin present for you lovelies. It's shorter than my usual chapters, but it finally happened. After 40+ chapters it's finally here.
> 
> Happy Holidays!!


	12. Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter ahead.

Móni had a pillow crushed against her body and watched the high noon rays spill through the curtains; her thoughts on nothing but the evening spent with a being she pined after for what seemed like a lifetime. Bliss had permanently remained on her face long after she was walked to her quarters and fell into the sheets where the dreams were full of clouds and light airs. She kicked off the covers and jumped high off the bed and quickly readied herself for a new day.

Sleep was an art that eluded Maul, never the one who considered it something to look forward to. Trained to keep half a mind on alert and disciplined to never over rest, he didn’t think he even knew what a restful sleep was—it’s purpose only to keep the body operational. Even on the days it seemed almost impossible to find sleep, he was usually capable of finding some minutes to close his eyes and recharge. The last night, however, was not one of those nights. Not even a second’s rest.

He started in the quarters, just as mundane as the one in the Vos’ estate, then paced the room until daybreak turned into morning; replaying every touch, scent, taste, and constantly spreading his senses to caress her presence across from him. Eventually, he ended up in Baelop’s study to finish wrangling the last of the potential benefactors but to no avail. She was all that resided in his mind. And he thought the restraints he put on himself and endless torture in the past was bad--this was far worse. Another new feeling he had to learn to cope with when he had hardly adapted to the ones he just set free.

At the count’s desk, Maul stared miserably at the mess of devices, one of them storing a vital piece of information waiting to be found.

 _It feels like a sickness_ , but one without remedy. _An intoxicating sickness_.

With nothing else to do but fall deeper into the passions he allowed consume him, Maul mindlessly sifted through the devices until a bronze card reflected divergence from its counterparts.

 _A keycard_? There were no storage units in the room, he made a thorough sweep of the area to be sure of that.

He flipped the card lightly in the air, over and over, deliberating where it could lead him—where in the vicinity could it connect with. When he landed on Zahri, there was a faint hum that pulsed in his ears and a pressure that gravitated him to her.

The Force aided him in lifting the portrait where a compartment was imbedded and flushed into the wall, and a console meant for an element to be inserted into. The keycard made the perfect fit granting Maul access to a solitary object in its center.

 _Another keycard_ , he examined it without much enthusiasm and an eye roll almost in effect, until he read an inscription.

“Hello?”

Móni’s voice struck his hearts in shock from a mix between an alarming and also pleasant surprise.

She stood at the doorway, wary still to come in, and holding steaming cups in her hands.

“Brought you some break fast. Or… lunch.”

Maul joined her at the threshold, admiring the way she blinked at him with a sort of delight he wasn’t accustomed to seeing so often.

“I made a discovery.”

“Trade then?”

They switched off and she took a long sip of her tea while analyzing the card, “Peko-Peko Apartments?”

“It is a bird native to the swamps on Naboo.”

“Alright? Baelop keeps a key to an apartment he doesn’t live in anymore?”

“It was behind your mother’s portrait.”

“Oh,” she fell silent, the weight of a simple key much heavier than she cared to carry. “It could be nothing.”

“Or everything.”

She took a peek behind Maul at the portrait that was now on the floor, her mother sucking her in; speaking without sound and watching without eyes, then there was a quiver in the Force that felt so familiar and filled the area with a floral scent, sweet and soft.

“Móni!”

“Did you smell that?”

Maul leaned back, utterly perplexed, “Smell what?”

He gestured to the spilled drink at her feet, mouth agape and prepared to scold, but she moved past him and made a straight shot to her mother.

Knelt before Zahri, Móni gripped the frame and the faded memories of hands that once held the portrait in the past sifted in faded segments across her mind’s eye. The muffled voices grew stronger when she edged at the actual painting, a painted yellow petal mere inches from her touch that would dive her into a time when her mother was alive. Young. A total stranger.

“I’m going to do a Force Echo.”

Maul, having known to some extent what she intended to do when the Force stirred under her command, had already made himself comfortable on the floor and held her gaze—trying to confirm a question he failed to understand.

“What changed your mind?”

“Told me not to ignore the Force anymore, right?”

“Yes…,” he drawled at the mild clarification.

“Well, I’m listening,” she sucked in a deep breath, hesitant to delve into the past—scared of what she’ll see or discover.

Not needing to sense the rising conflict when he could watch it tensing her body, Maul lightly nudged her elbow and inspired the final traces of confidence she needed.

“Go. I will remain here.”

His assurance at her capabilities outmatched what Móni had in herself and it was enough. It was always enough. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and beamed at the wide surprise he always gave whenever she showed him the slightest bit of affection.

“Here I go!”

She pressed a hand over the thick layers of paint and canvas and succumbed to the past.

There was the chime of laughter and animated chatter. Then a bright light poured through her vision and Móni found herself in an open space with windows that stretched from floor to ceiling and heavy, decorative furniture pushed to the far wall to clear the center floor for a female with white locks that sheened like silk under a veil of golden rays.

Before her was a canvas with a faded outline and simple shades of color, and she pointed using the red-dipped paintbrush in hand—delight filling her pale features and pale blue eyes that were undeniably of an umbaran species.

“You need to sit still!”

“It’s really not as easy as it looks. Goodness, Cajsa, at least feed me and keep me satisfied.”

Móni was drawn in an instant. The care. The love. The richness. A sound she was raised on and the first one she heard since infancy. A voice that scolded, lulled and rejoiced so many times to her until it fell silent forever. The bright, whiteness of the morning lifted to unveil Zahri sitting upright and pristine on an elegant chair cushioned with patterned fabric. Her dress was as yellow as an ilios Devaronian lily and there were hardly any lines of age on her smooth and youthful features.

When Móni reached to take hold of what was lost, she went straight through a mirage and her throat clamped closed to hold back a whimper. Then an outside force from her reality touched upon her senses and a warmth filled her back.

 _Maul_ , she breathed and maintained the wave of grief before it came crashing down on her.

“You’ll be moving around even more if you were eating. Just hold on a bit longer so I can get all the base colors in. Then I’ll have a feast prepared for you for sitting so still for me, even though it’s only been two hours.”

“It’s a long time to be sitting.”

“That’s because you’re always on the move,” Cajsa washed her brush and selected a new color. “What’s the next stop in your ventures?”

“Devaron.”

“Oh! That’s a nice selection. I hear their females are the predominant breadwinners in their society. The brains of their species.”

“I’m not going into the cities,” Zahri countered swiftly. “There are clans who reside deep within the jungles and have a far better understanding of the planet’s territories and environment than any urban-living being.”

Cajsa snorted a chuckle, “Of course. My apologies. I forget your only true friends are plants.” 

“Less drama.”

“I’m drama free!”

“Tell me again about that woman’s conversation you dropped in on. The one who was a mistress to a married man?”

“Someone had to tell her he wasn’t worth the trouble. Lucky for her, I was acquainted with the man to knock some sense into her. Not my problem the wife found out.”

“You told half our friends about the situation, which resulted in a very sloppy divorce.”

“Tragic.”

“You did it on purpose.”

There was a nefarious glint in Cajsa’s eyes, but quickly returned to her task, “Why should I? There was no motive.”

Zahri did not believe her in the slightest, “That’s all I need and want to know, thank you. Otherwise, you’re going to get me tangled in it as well, somehow.”

“Obviously.”

The automatic door’s swoosh echoed in the empty hall and a strapping male with white teeth and blonde hair strutted into the females’ solitary space.

“There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Yes. The point was to be left alone,” Cajsa vexed an exhale. “What do you need, Mr. Vos?”

“Not you, darling, but—why is my furniture haphazardly misplaced in a clutter?”

“To make space for my artistic endeavors.”

“You need an entire room for that? There are over 15 meters of space in here.”

“Shush and go away, dearest.”

Mr. Vos eased away two tables that were pinning a decorative chair against the wall, “They’re in here!”

Cajsa had to do a double-take at the man who entered… as well as Móni.

She had seen fragments of his appearance when he was Supreme Chancellor via holobroadcastings and vague recollections of his voice, but they were characteristics she shoved to the furthest part of her memories; never to be thought about again. This time, she had no choice but to look dead in the face of the man with a full head of auburn and commanded false innocence.

Every step, every gesture, every quirk in his thin lips were mindfully cordial. There was nothing in his blue eyes that gave away his Sith alignment, including his aura which was a dead muteness—unnatural and odd. It was strange to watch them interact with familiarity and without any inclinations of his true nature.

“Hello, Sheev,” Cajsa forced a greeting. “Here for me?”

Palpatine’s wide grin held no sincerity toward the silver-haired female, “I’m afraid not.”

When he moved past, his back to her, she stuck out a tongue that had Zahri make a subtle raise of her brows meant to scold, but Cajsa pretended to not have noticed.

“I have made a discovery. One you would enjoy very much,” he spoke low to Móni’s mother without the mask of pleasantries.

The coldness in his eyes and stern frown was free for her to see but Zahri hardly batted an eye. In fact, she welcomed it as if she had known Palpatine her whole life and made Móni all the more confused; a part of her not wanting to know anymore.

“What kind?” she was rather aloof to his drop in temperament—her character unchanged. “Nothing serious, I hope.”

“It is a matter of your wish.”

There was a smarmy quality when he angled his face a certain way, a harsh shadow pronouncing the lines of manipulation on his fair skin.

Zahri expressed nothing. A blank slate as she blinked slowly at the man who towered over her in his embroidered robes to exemplify his high status amongst the crowd and peers. She stood, her height overtaking the young Sith.

“It will have to wait, Sheev,” she mumbled; holding back a desire to follow him and guilt wrinkling the spot between the eyebrows, “I leave tomorrow for Devaron.”

“Tomorrow?” Cajsa interjected loudly. “You just came back from Mandalore a standard week ago.”

“Do you always spend your time eavesdropping in another’s conversation, Madame Vos?” Palpatine’s tone was as smooth and leveled as ice. “Surely you have better activities to concern yourself with like the simplified sketch before you.”

“Not quite as simplified as your recent policy on foreign commerce.”

“She follows politics now.”

“Among other things,” Cajsa flicked droplets of water from the brush, holding a steady gaze on Palpatine and openly stating her distrust of the man. “Like eavesdropping.”

“Alright you two,” Mr. Vos stepped between them. “Why don’t we take a break and go out for lunch. Blow things over with a drink or two.”

With a deliberate strike into the brown water, Cajsa wiped her hands clean of any paint and rose, showing off her growing stomach.

“I’ll be checking on Eezula and her lessons. Since our peace was stolen from us (typical males).”

Mr. Vos made no argument and held his wife’s hand, “Am I being sent to my study again tonight?”

“We’ll see,” she kept a stern face but gave a twinkle of charm for her husband’s eyes only.

When the two were comfortably a good distance away, Palpatine returned to Zahri, “I know the location of the final piece to everything you desire.”

“What I desire right now is peace of mind and away from all the noise and rush of society. I’m tired, can’t you see?”

“The loss you suffered,” he regressed into the calm diplomat and an illusion of concern glazed across his features, “the _pain_ you must feel. I cannot begin to understand what it must feel like to lose something before its life had begun. But I promise, what I am offering will not replace but give you an opportunity to start anew.”

Zahri sucked in a shaky breath and struggled to meet Palpatine’s intensity. Whether she was aware of a ploy in the works, Móni couldn’t read her mother to say if it was a possibility. But the sad smile and how she looked upon the Sith without disdain was enough of an answer as any that Palpatine’s true character wasn’t completely revealed to her yet.

“I’m in no rush for a fresh beginning. For now, I need to find my place in a galaxy where the life I wished for will never come to pass. You’ll be the first to know of my return.”

“I’m giving you this life.”

“I know. But it’s too soon. I need more time to make room in my heart for something new.”

Palpatine wasn’t pleased, the cool exterior broken as he stared up at the woman with narrowed eyes of disapproval.

“If that is what you desire.”

As a reaction to the obvious resentment, Zahri returned with an equal amount of scorn.

“Thank you so much for understanding my very human behavior. I appreciate it,” she moved swiftly past him and stopped to observe the unfinished portrait. “You have been the only one who has never left my side when I thought I had lost everything, but I can’t return to the woman you once knew so easily. She may have died with her husband and infant in the accident.”

When she met ice-cold blues that held little empathy, Zahri continued as if the expression was completely normal.

“I know you, Sheev, better than that Muun you’ve been following around maybe. And you may mean well but there is always a hidden motive behind everything you do. Whatever _you_ gain from this, I’m not asking to know, nor do I care. I trust you enough that you will deliver on your promise in some capacity and I will pay whatever price I need, but I am not one of your pawns in this game you are so intricately weaving together. You may see this concept as trivial, but I do consider you a friend. Whether you think of me as one… well, I just hope our long history means something to you.”

When her fingers slid off the portrait, Móni was sucked out of the corridor and into darkness where only the yellow light of a glowrod illuminated two distinct faces: one rodian and the other human.

“Take it. I don’t want it in my home.”

Mr. Vos no longer carried the upright posture of a confident individual, but one who stank of defeat in his sunken cheeks and scratchy beard.

“But,” a young Count Baelop moved the fabric that covered the portrait to stare at Zahri with watery fondness, “Cajsa considered this one of her greatest works.”

“I don’t care. It was that woman’s fault my wife is what she is now. Because she trusted _him_.”

“We all did.”

“Cajsa didn’t and Zahri ignored her. Now we’re suffering for it.”

“You can’t put the blame on her. She’s taken on more of his cruelty than all of us combined.”

“Serves her and her spawn right. Now take the wretched thing else he finds out you’ve been out of your cozy prison and then we’re both dead.”

“You’re wrong about her,” Baelop held the portrait close to him, “and her daughter. What would you do if you had the chance to begin again after losing everything?”

“Not make a deal with a demon.”

Móni was thrown into a loop again, out of the dark and back into the study. When she stretched her senses, she noted an oddity in the way things were arranged and how Maul was nowhere to be found.

“ **I’m afraid this has to be our last conversation, Soter**.”

A hologram of Zahri spoke from a clean comm unit that wasn’t worn with age and Baelop had his head bowed to hide the wince of pain.

“Yes. His power and reach grow by the day, especially since he became the Senator of Naboo.”

“ **You’ve done everything you can for me and M** **óni. There’s nothing left to do but hope he never finds us**.”

“He plans to become Supreme Chancellor, Zahri. When that happens, he could amass armies to find her.”

“ **He could but he would have to jump through a lot of senators to make that happen**.”

“There’s no telling what he’s capable of now we know what he is. I haven’t heard from Abbas in weeks,” he ran a hand down his face. “I think he may be dead if not worse and what information he had on the holocrons could lead back to me then to you.”

“ **Abbas wasn’t—isn’t an idiot. He knew what was at stake and what we were dealing with**. **Trust he won’t betray us.** ”

“I can barely trust myself to keep you and the child safe.”

“ **Sheev underestimates me and that’s going to hurt him more than he could possibly imagine. Even after I’m gone, she won’t be alone**. **It will always be there to guide her.** ”

“You speak as if your death is imminent. Have we not done enough to keep you out of his reach?”

“ **If not Sheev then…** ,” Zahri gathered the fabric of her skirt in a tight grip, unable to comprehend her own words. “ **Then the one who put her inside me** **because I broke our pact.** ”

“Pact? What are you talking about?”

The melodic screech of a young girl reached the comm’s audio and broke Zahri’s attention to a banging door.

“ **Mother! Dinner is ready! And I didn’t burn anything this time**.”

“ **Soter, promise me that whatever you hear and whatever happens you won’t come looking for me or M** **óni. The Force will guide her wherever she needs to be. It is our only ally against a threat bigger than any of us. Even Sheev**.”

“But—”

“ **Goodbye, my dear friend. And thank you**.”

“ **Mother? Who are you talking to?** ”

The transmission severed as abruptly as her connection with the portrait and the study returned to the dim lighting Maul preferred.

Móni slumped over the keycard she no longer wished to carry and was only mildly aware of a hand pressed gently on her shoulder.

When he noted his presence had gone unnoticed Maul instead cupped the hand that held the key to the next steps of her journey. It was then her eyes fluttered to attention and her arm quaked from a weight he could not fathom to understand.

“I’m scared, Maul. I don’t even know what it is I’m scared of but I’m terrified.”

_Mother, what did you do?_

The Force responded with silence and what lingered of the floral scent of childhood dissipated into the cold air entirely.

With the assistance of the meddlesome droid, Maul found a decent starcraft for their travel to Naboo and was more than pleased at the encrypted systems that were methodically installed to bypass scanners; no thanks to the Count’s heightened paranoia. But an obviously well-placed paranoia for he knew exactly what to expect from Sidious.

From the cockpit’s control panel, loading a full diagnostic of the ship’s flight history and components, Maul watched Móni below pushing crates of rations and other necessities for at least a month’s journey into the docking bay—the gravity of fear pressing against his senses.

She had not spoken of what she saw in the hours spent sucked into the portrait’s past and he had not asked. The deliberate avoidance and silence were a similar treatment from back on D’Qar when she refused to elaborate on the holorecording of Kyp and his mother. Maul didn’t think there was going to be a repetition of that event, suspecting she was mulling over the pieces of information on her own.

However, he wished she would share her burdens so he could offer some sort of guidance, but Móni was usually adamant to hold close the mysteries of her abilities to herself. It had taken almost a year for her to finally tell Maul her unique connection with the Force and the possibility of there being more kept from him was almost guaranteed.

Maul glanced over the console’s screen that displayed a wiped history of the ship’s whereabouts and bare minimum armaments. From the short interactions he had with the Count, Baelop was not a violent individual and unfortunately, it spread as far to the ships he flew in.

 _At least there are shields…_ But that wasn’t saying much.

Coming up the ramp and into the cockpit, Móni put her weight to the grip she had on the door’s top frame.

“How does the ship look?”

“Weak. The craft is borderline civilian and could easily be torn to shreds under Imperial fire.”

“We have any other options?”

“No,” he grumbled with annoyance.

“Gotta make do with what we got,” she dropped her arms with a distant stare filled with hidden thoughts that took her away from the present.

“Have you finished supplying the ship?”

Maul’s low and carefully spoken question returned Móni with only semi focus.

“Everything is there. Need anything else done?”

Her urgency to be left alone was so pressing it was almost exhausting.

 _Frustrating_ , but pushing her would do little. She would retort with half-truths and successfully steer the conversation in another direction.

“There is nothing else,” Maul returned to the console to finish his task.

“I’ll be outside if you need me.”

He stared at her receding form before the automatic door closed her out.

 _She specified where she will be_ , a promising sign.

The shadow of a solitary person hunched under the twilight hours on an empty beach remained unmoving except for the winds tugging on loose strands of hair. Another strolled across the sands with a distinctive silhouette of horns and stopped at the lowly figure before stretching out a cloak to place over her shoulders.

He sunk to the coarse ground and looked upon her expectantly—waiting—until she finally spilled to him her sorrows. And he didn’t dare interrupt until everything was laid bare.

When she finished Maul had an elbow resting at the knee and a hand holding his overloaded head with more questions than answers.

“From what I can understand,” he attempted to piece together what he could, “you were the wish Sidious promised your mother.”

“The holocrons definitely have something to do with this.”

“They may have provided answers on how to make life without a father,” Maul pressed a clenched fist against his mouth to quell the rage ready to spew. “Sidious has an obsession for immortality, and I wouldn’t doubt he took advantage of Zahri’s pain to experiment with her on a possibility.”

“Maybe,” she tightened the cloak and dipped her head between the knees. “I didn’t know she was married before Momma.”

Móni buried deeper into her legs, the faces of her mothers, the Vos’, Baelop, and Palpatine swirling fast in her brain; unable to separate the facts from assumptions and lies and grief. To consider something greater than the Emperor was not anything she could begin to wrap her head around yet and caused a high level of stress, quite nearly to the point of her feeling an incoming fever and a pain in her chest as if someone were stepping on it with their full weight.

Her rapid heartbeats drowned out the crashing ocean and she lost sight of her surroundings and a disconnect with her emotions which allowed the Force to reign over her mind with their chittering whispers that could drive any other being into insanity. Among them was the distinct and crisp voice of the Rogue Jedi who mocked with a laugh that held many secrets.

 **“** Móni. Breathe.”

Maul gripped her arms that were wound tightly around her legs and were as stiff as stone when he attempted to pry them apart. No matter how many times he called her name she refused to acknowledge him and remained steadfast in her sorrow and anxiety, the erratic breathing possibly what was overlapping his cries. Even resting a hand on her back and offering the same ministrations she gave him the day prior had no effect.

With no other options in how to deal with such an intense flux of emotions, Maul rested his forehead on the back of her head and rode on the Force’s waves to dive into her mind.

What a mistake that was.

A wind of astronomical proportions nearly shoved him out along with a harsh buzz of voices so loud he couldn’t hear himself think. But he gripped onto an iron will that surpassed the whipping gales, and an anger forged from years of pain and fear helped center his focus on her bleeding anguish.

 _M_ _óni!_

He could barely traverse her mind for it had been completely blanketed by an entity that clung to him like a miasma that continued to grow and suffocate. When he concentrated on what it was that enveloped him, Maul’s senses heightened at its familiarity—at its grandeur.

**_You are correct. This is the Force in her mind._ **

An unfamiliar voice out of trillions made itself known and it was not the one Maul wanted to hear.

_Who are you?_

**_I go by many names. Traitor of Whills. Deceiver. Tyrant. Heretic._ **

_The Rogue Jedi_ , Maul recognized the aura that spewed from blotched and manic words. The writings of a madman who was drenched in despair and loss. Who had been tormenting Móni.

**_If your mind was the one I was able to infiltrate instead of this disastrous woman then things would have been a whole lot simpler._ **

_What do you want?_ He overlapped the drivel he didn’t care to hear and gathered the Dark Side to aid him in eliminating the parasite. _To overtake her spirit and live on through her body? How absolutely common of you, but I suppose the petty fixation of immortality had to begin somewhere._

A human form took shape, fogged and faded, and the Rogue Jedi’s fiery rage gathered around Maul and competed with his own.

**_I am not the enemy, Darth Maul. There is a greater power at work, and she is the heart of it. You are the only one who can make her see reason. The only one who can help her realize what she is destined for._ **

_The First Sith is quite a title to carry. If you are exactly who you say you are then I have little reason to trust you. You want something from her._

**_As do you._ **

The jab spiraled Maul into a fit of fury, _I am nothing like you and your kind. The Dark Side may continue to be my ally but that is all it is to me._ _The Sith abandon their apprentice’s and masters; a flaw that will lead to their destruction. Until the end, I did not forsake my brother and M_ _óni will never forsake me._

 ** _Hold on too tightly and it will slip out of your grasp. As my beloved had_** , the intensity of his pain suffocated and crushed Maul. ** _You can’t change what you are. Like an insect drawn to a flame, you are drawn to her power. That is all she is to you and all she ever will be. A means to an end for your desires._**

 _Leave her!_ Maul roared into the caverns of Móni’s mind, rocking her consciousness awake and her wrath descending upon them.

Her cries sucked him out and was thrown back onto the sand, waves, and chilling winds.

Móni pinned Maul’s arms to the ground and he looked up at a woman caught in a frenzy.

“Don’t ever go in my head when I get like that again. I can get out of it myself without your help.”

Maul sneered at the iron grip he was in no way capable of getting out of and snarled at her outburst, “You lost control of yourself. Again.”

“I let myself lose control.”

“What was the point of your years of training with me to only purposely lapse into who you were before?”

“Because I’m hurt and I’m weak and I feel so lost because I don’t know what to do. There’s this feeling like everything I love will be taken away from me at any given moment. That what I’m fighting for means nothing in the end because whatever is out there will have its way with me. And despite the lies and secrecy, I don’t think I’ve ever missed Mother the way I’m missing her right now.”

She heaved dry sobs, wanting to cry but her body denied her the pleasure. Under her, she read Maul’s slight confusion in his brows in his dire attempt to understand why anyone would allow themselves to succumb to their feelings and allow it to take control of them. That, to her, it was the only true freedom she could give herself. 

But in his uncertainty, Maul slipped out of her loosened grip and between awkwardness and doubt, raised his arms. He felt silly being the one to initiate the action without her asking for it and was close to abandoning it altogether. Then Móni sunk into him, her body encasing his and her head tucked under his chin. The proximity wasn’t something he considered and was temporarily overwhelmed by her weight and warmth pressed against his own. Maul worked through his breathing and swallowed hard with embarrassment that she could hear his erratic hearts with her ear close to his chest. However, once he jolted his brain to life to move his arms and gather her in a protective hold, the muscles melted into the sands on his back when he realized the incredible sense of comfort to have all of her near. He eased into the embrace and turned his face into the wild curls to press his mouth to the top of her head.

“Do you speak of the threat your mother mentioned?”

She nodded and buried her face into his neck, the breaths on his skin elevating the heat to his face.

‘ _There is a greater power at work…,’_ the Rogue Jedi’s words echoed in his skull and although Maul should be wary of its meaning, the threat was an empty one without proof of any such thing.

“Without a concept of what you are, any distress for an unknown enemy is wasted for discovering the truth of one may unveil the truth of the other. Focus on what is in front of you first and do not strain your mind on other things that are out of reach. What needs to be revealed will in due time.”

Móni absently swatted grains of sand off Maul’s shoulder, deep in thought.

“What did he say to you?”

“Who?”

She rose to meet his gaze, unimpressed, “I’m usually the elusive one. Not you.”

Maul rolled his eyes to the dark sky, imagining every outcome and reaction based on the correct choice of words.

“That he is not the enemy.”

“You believe him?”

“They are all my enemies. Vos, the Shadow Collective, crime lords, the Empire, and the Sith. To consider them as anything more, I would be a fool.”

“Great. Then I’ll keep ignoring him.”

“Has he stated what he wants from you?”

“To take me to a planet, I think. The one I’ve mentioned before.”

“A gray planet surrounded by red mist,” Maul quoted her word for word. “I do not know of any planet that matches your description nor found any charted in our current galaxy map.”

“If it’s related to the First Sith, then we may have to look into a really old map of the galaxy to maybe find a match.”

Not knowing he had been softly tugging on the ends of her hair, Maul ceased mid-stroke and translated her spike of frustration that clashed with his senses.

“You are drawn to this planet.”

“No!” she put up a poor defense. “Yes. I don’t know. Maybe because he’s been pushing it into my dreams almost every night! He’s so annoying.”

“I believe the feeling was mutual.”

“Good! I hope I am so he could finally leave me alone because the Force wasn’t enough to deal with already.”

“What I experienced,” Maul swallowed thickly at the sensation of trillions bearing down on him with many voices formed into one. “Was it truly the Force?”

“Yeah.”

“Does it always feel the way it felt?

“Always? Used to be. Not quite as much anymore. It’s the strongest when I meditate or sleep.”

Móni placed a hand over his chest and felt the hearts beat into her arm, their rate faster than a human’s. She closed her eyes and listened to his life pulse into her being and wrapped his Force presence around her to help settle the quivering fear in her spirit. He was angry, as usual, but it was sharp and directed; most likely toward the Rogue Jedi. She wondered what they spoke about that had Maul spew fires of rage at the First Sith.

“Sorry for blowing up like that. This burden… I don’t want anyone else experiencing it if I can help it. As you can see, it’s not fun.”

She huffed a lifeless laugh to lighten the mood, but Maul was as stern as ever; if not, more so. And she couldn’t pinpoint what she said to stir the flares of anger.

“Are we master and apprentice, lord and servant, or general and commander?”

“Huh?” Móni choked at the unexpected attack coming from the least likely candidate to ever ask such a thing. “Is this a trick question?”

“We are none of these things and, therefore, without margins. What then is the purpose of what we’ve created if you continue to set these boundaries between yourself, the Force, and me.”

Her lashes fluttered in amazement at the being who spoke profoundly, “And when did you become an expert?”

“Expert?”

“On relationships.”

It was Maul’s turn to be baffled and he looked upon Móni as if she were the strange one, “Common sense. A novel concept for you, I’m sure.”

She gave his arm a playful slap and barked a laugh, “Remind me again who saved our hides from a flock of grallocs and put the Black Suns in their place?”

“The credit for the former can be given to you. As for the latter, it is my understanding you used my name often to tame them.”

“That doesn’t count because it’s just a name. You didn’t do anything.”

“My name striking fear into the hearts of the weak was not accomplished by doing nothing.”

“You’re right. I’m sure they also appreciated the mountain of carbonite and phrik I gave them under your name.”

Maul snapped fast at Móni, his rage engulfing the planet and a nostril quivering under a contained shout.

“You gave them _what_?”

Not even the hands covering her mouth could help contain the noise trapped in her throat. Móni sputtered it out then erupted into a roaring guffaw that hurt her stomach.

“I’m kidding! I was kidding!”

He exhaled a moan filled with exertion and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to compose himself. Trying not to chuckle and fuel her victory. But her joy was an infection. The anger slipped away and replaced by a rumble that started deep in his stomach then expanded in the chest, and Maul laughed alongside her. Loud and boisterous and free.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Regret breaking boundaries with me, yet?”

“Not yet.”

“So, still have some time left to mess with you a little longer.”

“It would seem so.”

His arms still wrapped around her waist, Maul lightly squeezed her closer to his side and touched his forehead to hers.

“Against the forces that want us and the obstacles we face, they can be overcome together,” he tucked a lock behind her ear, soaking in the bright wonderment that stared back at him. “You are unabashedly open to your flaws and mistakes and character, but not to the Force. Allow me passage to your burdens and distribute them to me. Not until this moment do I finally understand the pressures of an empire and a crime syndicate on my back are insignificant to the galaxy that rests on your shoulders.”

 _The universe, perhaps_ , Maul couldn’t shake off the memory of what Móni had to suffer from her whole life. That she was far stronger than he could possibly have imagined being able to fight back against the greatest entity in all of existence.

“And you are far from weak. I would rather face hordes of rathtars than fight you at your highest potential.”

Móni chuckled, tracing the tattoo that dipped down across his cheekbone and admiring how bright his eyes were against the permanent, black markings that shaped them. She leaned into Maul’s fingers that gave the corner of her frowning mouth a tentative touch; a silent plea for her thoughts.

“Ravi was the one who told me to trust you. In a sense, it was the Force that wanted me to since it spoke through her.”

“I was destined to meet you.”

“And I chose to stay,” she rubbed his cheek with the back of her fingers and poured her affections in the gesture. “I’ll do my best to include you in my misery next time if that’s what you really want.”

“Wholeheartedly.”

She shook her head with disbelief, “She was right. You are the only one who could understand me.”

Maul stretched a playful smirk, “You doubted me?”

“Sure did. Not even your good looks were enough to reel me in.”

He scoffed and turned his face away, “Ridiculous.”

Her small giggles put him in a trance that depleted the embarrassment and returned the strength to confront her again. 

“But then I realized,” Móni continued with an expression filled with adoration and care, “that you were genuinely trying to help and comprehend who I was. Made me a better person, although, it wasn’t the person you intended.”

A dismissive growl rumbled under her chest, “I made peace with your antics long ago.”

“How long?”

She propped herself up on her elbows to get a better view of him and sparkled with a foolish grin that had Maul deflate with fatigue.

“I’ll start! The first time you saw me fly on Andelm IV. When you held on and didn’t let me go, I think that was when I saw for the first time the type of being you were. How there was more to the Sith and crime lord, and the one I wanted to get to know. And that you are capable of being more than what Palpatine raised you to be.”

He was silent for far longer than she expected. His gaze on the twinkling and cloudless sky with emotions steadily rising with the familiar flames of hate.

“What I am is who I choose to be. Without it, I am weak. Powerless. Insignificant. Nothing.”

“It’s all you know.”

“It is all I need to know.”

In the night, gold irises shined as bright as the stars and shattered any fantasies of the zabrak with dark amber pools ever coming into existence.

She nodded her understanding and at his survival through many years of hardships and pain with the tools he was provided with at a young age. The proof of its success was the hand warming the spot on her waist and the rise and fall of steady breaths against her chest.

Maul sensed her disagreement and yet the only thing he repeated over and over to himself was the conversation with the Rogue Jedi.

‘ _You can’t change what you are_ ,’ he knew that already.

‘ _Like an insect drawn to a flame you are drawn to her power_ ,’ it was the only thing he cared for since her discovery. It was what he continued to rely on to expand the underworld and overshadow the Empire.

‘ _That is all she is to you and all she ever will be. A means to an end for your desires_.’

For the first time since Savage pulled him from the scraps of Lotho Minor, Maul relived his teachings with Sidious. Of power and control and dominance. To take what was rightfully theirs without question—without mercy.

He saw power. And he took it.

 _How long?_ How long did he desire for more than just power? When did her power become irrelevant? Has it ever stopped being irrelevant?

 _No_ , Maul shut his eyes away from Móni and the planet’s serenity. _I need it. It is still important. Vital._ Without it she was…

And there lies the difference between the two of them. She can be perfectly content without her gifts, whereas Maul saw no life worth living without them. He needed purpose. He needed revenge. It was all he had.

But when he felt the suns in her Force presence engulf and caress his very being, Maul stuttered at an option he never considered and purged every notion of its existence from his thoughts and memory.

 _It can never be so_ , peace. There is no peace. Only chaos.

He dropped his hold on her, “We should retire for the evening. In the morning we leave for Naboo.”

The thorns of his personality struck Móni hard and nearly allowed Maul to have the final word as he stood and shook himself of the sand that clung to him.

Nearly.

“Hey! After your big talk about boundaries I expect the same treatment from you too,” she stepped into his path that leads to the estate.

Knowing this was a battle he could not win, did not wish to fight over, Maul surrendered.

“What is it you expect of me?”

“Nothing.”

“I do not believe that. You know exactly what it is I expect from you. The situation has not changed.”

“When did I ever say it has?”

Móni was stumped by the sudden shift in gears and the complexities of his mind she often lost sight of. Then she had to remember Maul had never shared any acts of intimacy across all platforms: familial, social, romantic. Not even friendship. The closest bond he had was with Savage and even then Maul maintained certain boundaries between them and never completely bridged the gap of brotherhood.

She rubbed her face, resetting her brain to be able to compete with him.

“Okay. What exactly are you worried about?”

He searched the ground he scuffled with a steel foot, flexed his hands, and when Móni saw his nose scrunch with discomfort it was then she relaxed her tension to openly express patience. That he needed to work through whatever he needed to.

“Power was what pulled me to you and what I continue to see you as. Everything else is secondary.”

Móni shouldn’t have done it, but when had she ever maintained self-control in moments that called for it?

The snort transported Maul to their first meeting on the Abolition, when she mocked him for expecting a lightsaber duel with, what he thought she was, a Jedi. He didn’t know how to react, especially when she doubled over in a burst of laughter. Her elation parted the dark mood but what she left behind was complete and under bafflement. Maul couldn’t find within himself to bother with a snarl or growl of irritation and instead crossed his arms to wait until her fit ended.

“Are you done?”

When she slowed to a stop, heaving the excess laughter and wiping the tears from her eyes, Móni imposed on his space in a stance brimmed with confidence.

“Only you would say my abilities were what you found attractive about me before anything else.”

Maul’s body stiffened from an outrage he contained in the pit of his stomach, ready to lash at any given moment if she said another word to test his dignity. Didn’t matter if she wasn’t entirely wrong in her deductions.

Already prepared to expect an earful of his protests, she pressed a finger to his lips that had parted in a snarl.

“Let me ask you this. If I wasn’t Force-sensitive, would you still feel the same way you do for me now?”

Maul had seen Móni battle without the use of the Force and she was a wonder to behold with or without it. For when she trained without it, unlike most Force-sensitive individuals who subconsciously have it aid them for instinctive purposes, she shuts it off entirely. The woman was fiercer than any warrior, more cunning than a bounty hunter, and a duelist whose skills were on par with Sith and Jedi. And if the Force was the cause of her spurts of anguish, then he can’t imagine how much more often he could see those lopsided grins and obnoxious laughter if she was free of it.

“Yes.”

She shrugged, “There you have it.”

“You’re not surprised.”

“You want me to be?”

She hung her mouth open and faked a shock expression Maul heaved a weary sigh at.

“Give me your hand. Wanna know what I feel when you’re always near me? Snippets of these gorgeous sparks of marvel and admiration when you hold me or look at me or talk to me. I sense it the most in your laughs,” she held his hand against her cheek. “These aren’t the emotions of someone who only seeks me out for power. They are raw and real and beautiful and are the brightest when I’m at my lowest. That’s my observation.”

To be seen as anything other than a monster, enemy, fiend, something to be hated and abhorred and feared was a concept Maul had yet to comprehend. But there she was, describing him in a way he never thought possible.

“You have mistaken me for someone else,” he countered at the strangeness and purity of it all.

“One day,” Móni nodded with assurance. “One day you’ll see what you can be capable of because I see it. The same way you see my capabilities.”

Before leading them to the warm indoors, Móni entwined their fingers and pulled him close to lightly brush her lips to his; the sparks she spoke of coming to life on his skin and inside his chest, and illuminated the Force around them in the darkest night.

“Hm,” he hummed with content at the contact and inaccuracy of her description. How much worse the sensation did to him and what he kept her from sensing. That every touch from her made him feel as if he had gone absolutely mad.

And, stars, he hoped she would never be bold enough to expose that part of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. Didn't mean for it to be this long but they wouldn't stop talking and just let it happen. 
> 
> So, been a crazy year for everyone but I want to thank you for your continued support with this fic. It's long and still has ways to go but I can't begin to express how much your comments have meant to me. I've tried to keep up with the weekly updates and give you all something to look forward to in these weird times and I'm ready to continue the streak in the new year (hopefully). You are all amazing and I couldn't have asked for better readers. 
> 
> Thanks for reading and have a Happy New Year!!!


	13. Lesser Than

“Say that your master doesn’t return. What would happen?”

The servant droid assisted in making the final preparations for their journey and stationed itself at the ramp’s base as any proper host would to see their guests off. Móni was about ready to follow Maul closely behind but was struck with a last-minute realization that the island was going to be awfully empty for decades to come.

“He made detailed instructions of worst-case scenarios and assigned me to be the proud orchestrator of the estate’s destruction and remove any data so no one can ruin his good work.”

“I see,” Zahri’s portrait boiled and melted under an explosion of fire in her imagination, the final remnants of her mother’s existence if they find nothing on Naboo. “Hate to break the news to you but Baelop won’t be returning.”

“Did you receive a transmission of this news? Did I happen to miss one?”

“No. I’m sorry, but he passed away.”

“Oh,” the movement in its joints slowed and made a rather organic gesture in the way it inclined its head and carried its hands. “Do you know how?”

“Killed.”

“Then the worst has happened. Just as he predicted,” its pause was drawn and solemn; the processors whirring with emotion. “As our first and last guest, thank you for visiting. It has been a pleasure, Durmónia Boudika.”

“You knew who I was this whole time?”

“Of course. You were the center of my master’s research,” it opened its chest cavity to pass on a datacard and a high-quality holoprojector.

When Móni illuminated the device, a perfect render of her mother hovered over the palm of her hand.

“Being alone for many years, Master had a contingency plan for every scenario he could think of, including your visit. Everything in his study is compiled into the card for your use only,” its posture straightened to that of a gracious host and bowed.

“Safe travels, Miss Durmónia. It has been a pleasure serving you.”

Maul made the final adjustments to their coordinates with the ship currently flying through the charted hyperspace lane its systems thankfully had installed. His calculations were disrupted, however, by Móni’s wailing emotions that matched her distant stare into the streaking stars while her thumb made constant strokes across the datacard in hand.

He needn’t ask nor speak to fill the straining atmosphere rippling with discord, finally gaining the necessary insight of waiting patiently until she broke her walls down for him. No matter how badly he wanted to scour her mind and find everything that ailed her.

“Was it worth it?” she finally parted the curtains of her thoughts to cast light onto her struggles. “Everything they did for me?”

Maul relaxed his formal posture when her insecurities pressed down on him. The deeper they went into the mysteries that surrounded her, the lower her self-confidence went. He was aware of the constant battle with herself in their first meeting when she pulled him close and pleaded for her life to end. Worry pressured his thoughts and into the rhythmic tapping of his finger on the armrest at the possibility of her returning to the state of helplessness and self-destruction if they pushed any further.

 _No. She’s stronger than that_ , Móni wasn’t the woman she was before. If she couldn’t find in herself the brilliance he saw in her, Maul would help her recognize it because not once had his belief in her wavered. In fact, it had only gotten stronger.

“Your existence has nothing to do with their tragedy. Sidious is the sole culprit of their suffering, as well as their choices.”

“You mean Mother’s choice in having me.”

Her eyes crinkled with vehemence along with the rare display of a canine before whipping her face from view that did nothing to hide the sharp feelings circulating the air. The blame she continued to harbor no matter how often he told her otherwise.

“The Empire’s existence, Sidious’ prized pupil, the eradication of the Jedi… these events were sparked by the Force and the choices of others. You are an entirely different matter and one we no nothing about. Even the Force has no say in the events that transpire in your destiny.” He leaned against the control panel before her with half a mind to initiate contact but overthought the action and did nothing. “As always, your pain and anger are misplaced. Put it into Sidious, the Rogue Jedi, the Force if you must, but not you. And not your mother,” he said as an afterthought, surprised to have mentioned anything sentimental about someone he knew nothing about.

“What do you mean?” she pressed for the depths of his meaning for there was always an underlining factor to everything he says. Maul never wasted words; their selection weaved into an immaculate piece of narrative that was borderline exquisite.

“There are few I am aware of who knew about Sidious’ double life. The one who apprenticed under him after me, the current Grand Vizier of the Galactic Empire, Savage, Count Baelop, the entire Vos family, and your mother. For those who passed, they were instruments to elevate his regime and power and realized too late the plot set against them. Like me, they were betrayed and cast aside. Like me, your mother—although not entirely aware of what he was—knew _who_ he was and lived long enough to tell about it. I can… sympathize with her faults and failures and I do not blame her for being easily manipulated into his demands. Sidious is no man and one must never see him as such. He has no empathy, no reservations for another’s life except his own, and feels **nothing**. There is the Dark Side, yes, but because he has no humanity he harnesses it like a weapon; an extension of himself. Since Darth Bane, there had been no other Sith who has been more successful than he has and more powerful than he had become. He is the pinnacle of Sith.

“This is who we are facing. This is who we must destroy because he has taken too much from me and I refuse for him to take anymore. He and everything he holds so dear to him will be pulled from his cold, dead hands and I will be the one to rise above him. I will be the most powerful! And the galaxy will be ours.”

 _Ours_ …, he spoke of the two of them but Móni could not picture herself on a throne the way Maul did.

 _Conversation for another time_ , for that future was too far ahead for her to even comprehend. The issues of the present had yet to be solved and adding another to the pile would pummel the remaining bits of sanity she had left. Most notably after hearing the horrors of Palpatine.

Móni sunk into the seat. She was seeing a pattern. From Ravi to Zione to Kyp, the infliction she had on them because of her poor mental state. In the past, Maul enforced its use to strengthen her abilities, but the way he looked at her now was no different than how the others saw her. She hated it. The unnecessary worry and sadness she caused.

“How come you never exposed him when your apprenticeship ended?” she shifted the conversation and cleared the concern that surrounded her. “Could have done a lot of damage to him.”

“To who? The senate which he ruled? The Jedi who sought my capture whether I gave them information or not? No,” he shook his head. “I gave one being an opportunity to join me but her attachment to Sidious' apprentice clouded her judgment and the result would have been the same from any one of her kind. It is you and I against the Empire. That is all I need and more than I could ever ask for.”

She huffed a bashful chuckle, not quite used to his exceptional use of charm he probably had no idea he was capable of using.

“I’m just glad to be some sort of use.”

“When have you not been?”

“Let’s see…,” Móni accepted the challenge. “How about the time I almost got you killed for causing that avalanche on Gigor? Or when I created some slight problems with the Black Suns because of my brilliant idea to not make the gigorans slaves. There’s also the fact that my very presence could have compromised the entire mission on Aldimune. Oh, and there’s also my stunt with Druan where you needed to do a workaround. I’d say I have a pretty good record going for me so far.”

“Do not forget you steered the Dimachaeri’s ship right to me.”

“I did that?” she gasped. “No, I didn’t! You were there?”

“Yet, despite it all,” Maul continued with fondness tugging at his lips, “you’ve come out of each situation stronger than you were before.”

“Hm,” she hummed with skepticism. “What happened in Vos’ estate showed I still have a long way to go. Everything I wanted to avoid, my greatest fear, was losing control and I almost did.”

As if he were back in the chaos that rained down upon them within high ceilings and a posh environment, Maul felt the Dark Side expanding and overtaking the light she held inside her.

“The anger and pain and fear you have withheld for years boiled over and exploded when they could not be contained any longer. When you gave into it, the Dark Side took form and nearly consumed you. Falling into it is simple, but harnessing it is another matter entirely. One can get lost in the passions and freedom it grants, but it can come at a cost.”

“I don’t get it,” she leaned a cheek onto her fist. “You are so aware of the Dark Side’s faults and what it has taken from you, but you still stick with it.”

Maul sucked in an exhale that would have stated his distaste on the subject and her disapproval, which—quite frankly—didn’t concern her.

“Would you rather have me turn into a Jedi?” he mocked with irritation.

“That’s not what I’m saying. And why are there only two options? Can’t you be either of them?”

“There is nothing but calamity and unbridled emotions in the middle. You are the only exception because of what you are.”

“And who decided that? The Sith and Jedi actually agree on something?”

A low growl rumbled from his chest and Maul made a motion to leave her presence but Móni took his hand in a loose hold. Any strength wasn’t required for he stopped immediately at the touch.

“I just… want to understand. I don’t have a choice with what I am, but you do.”

He straightened at that. The bracelet of her hold still on his wrist and the engine’s humming smoothly in his ears.

“I have come too far to turn back. To be anything less would be my undoing.”

Under her breath, Móni repeated the word ‘less’ in a mix of wonderment and shock. There was so much to counter with—to attack until he turned dark in the face with pent up anger and exploded in her face. But she gave his hand a final squeeze at a resolve; how nothing she said would ever make him consider the possibilities out there for him. That he had settled with what he had, no matter if it would truly bring him fulfillment or joy.

On the tip of her tongue was another burning question—her voice trapped at the back of her throat. Then the discipline of self-control restrained her from possibly making a potentially tender conversation into a full-blown battle.

 _That’s not it_ , the argument wasn’t the issue. It was an answer she wasn’t ready to hear from a very selfish request. A desire she had no right having but it appeared so suddenly, and she wasn’t willing to confront it yet—the ache in her chest.

If the happiness she provided him could ever be enough.

The journey was mainly spent in meditation and Maul receiving constant updates from Crimson Veil since they exited the Unknown Regions with communications no longer lagging or of poor quality. Not too invested in the syndicate’s progress, Móni disappeared into her quarters or stuffed herself in the cramped kitchen during those times, which could last hours. The times she did try to sit through one of the briefings Móni fell asleep and awoke to a very unhappy Maul who reminded her there were cots for her to sleep on and not in the middle of meetings. She lightly reprimanded herself for leaving Kyp’s datapad on D’Qar to drown herself in the unexplored regions of the galaxy and keep her occupied.

She slid a glance at Baelop’s datacard on the crumpled bedsheets and huffed with fatigue.

The automatic door opened for Maul who gave a quizzical stare into the seemingly empty room until he rolled his eyes up.

“What are you doing?”

Móni replied from the ceiling, “Taking the room in at a different angle. Still square.”

“Why?”

“Why’s it square?”

He rumbled a low growl for her to try again and she let out a long, exaggerated sigh.

“I’m bored.”

Maul inclined his head to the solitary datacard, “You have not touched it since we have begun the journey.”

“I don’t have the motivation to read into things about the Force right now. Burnt myself out with all that stuff.”

Rather than push the matter anymore, reading the fluctuating emotions that permeated the atmosphere, Maul activated the lonely holoprojector on a shelf and illuminated a holoimage of Zahri’s portrait.

“There is a protocolled screening before we can make a landing on Naboo. Forged licenses are being made as we speak to bypass any Imperial officers when we land,” he scrolled through the various images of Móni’s mother in her younger years, some with colleagues and the Count. “There is a farming settlement 25 to 30 klicks from Theed’s borders with little Imperial activity and made up entirely of farming and craftsmen locals.”

He stopped at corrupted data, the image pixelated and blurred from being viewed clearly.

“Licenses of what?” she floated to the cot and flopped on top of it.

“Agriculture,” Maul opened the device and analyzed the wires, circuit board, and datachips to find any loose or burned components.

“What do you know about agriculture?”

“My knowledge does not compete with yours which is why I chose it.”

After some wriggling and twisting and unplugging, the holoprojector flashed a clean image momentarily before returning to its corrupted state. Maul stilled at what he may or may not have seen.

“Sounds to me like you’re going to need me to constantly cover for you if someone decides to question you. Not that anyone would since you can glare anyone away into oblivion.”

There was an odd silence and when she sat up there was only a disassembled holoprojector and herself in the room.

“Did he just leave mid-conversation?”

When Maul returned he went straight for the open device with tools in hand and got to work in silence.

“What are you doing?”

“Did you not notice the corrupted image?”

“Did I?” she thought about it then snapped her fingers. “The weird-looking one. Didn’t give it much thought.”

He chuckled through his nose, “Of course you didn’t.”

Maul connected the datachip to an external device and scrolled through its programming and codes to find the corrupted data while Móni observed with fondness at his side. Though, he was too preoccupied to notice.

“You like to fix things?” she referred to the many times he has assembled and disassembled parts with calm satisfaction in the past.

“I have never considered it a leisure activity but a requirement.”

“Well, it’s not required of you to repair this. There are plenty of other images of her in there.”

“Yes, however, what I thought I saw would—”

He bit his tongue from saying any more—from overexposing himself even when he had expressed so much to her already. There was still a blockade in his thoughts and emotions which repressed any indulgence in their synergy. Maul wasn’t sure what the fear that held him back was but knew, in part, the cultivated and lethal instincts were what overpowered his desires, and yet, had done nothing to overcome any of it.

“See what?”

Rather than explain, Maul zeroed in on the task and pressed his mouth firmly shut from the seething winds swirling in his chest. The anger gave him focus to find and mend the broken data then returning the datachip to the holoprojector. When he powered it on the image that illuminated silenced the gales of emotions between the two of them entirely.

Móni held her breath at a clear projection of her mothers, faces bright with elation while they held a child between them who mimicked their joy with a smile that had not changed.

“I don’t remember that.”

There was a pinprick of pain in her heart upon seeing the Devaronian female’s muscular frame encompassing her two greatest treasures. How certain details about her faded away over time like the markings of her clan tattooed on her arm and dotted on her face. The skin’s orange glow and black locks that sheened with violet highlights.

She turned it off and released a stream of air that had been trapped inside her.

Maul watched her carefully, the reaction not one he had expected and as if his thoughts were read, she answered:

“None of this is a coincidence. Something huge is coming our way and it’s as if I’m being prepped for it. Maybe on Naboo or after? Who knows?” With a sudden spin on her heel, she fell back to the cot, staring at the emptiness above, “Did you find the location of the apartments? Maybe we can stop by the college too.”

Following her to the messy cot and situating himself on its edge by her knees, Maul leaned onto his metal thighs and inhaled the prominent feeling that circulated the area the moment he stepped into the room.

“You are anxious.”

“How could you tell?”

The sarcasm was not appreciated, “Is this not what you asked for?”

“The closer we get to the truth the less I want to know. I wasn’t happy in my ignorance and I won’t be happy when it all comes to light. Kyp hasn’t contacted me, even after giving Qar-Tan the new frequency, and doubting he would ever forgive me. Then those… stupid memories.”

He had known her long enough this wasn’t a request to turn back or halt their mission. That this was a confession of what had been tugging down the grins and quieting the laughter. Her greatest flaw pushing her further in the dark depths of destruction no matter how many times Maul had attempted to drag her out. How sensitive she was to her own feelings.

There was a gradual increase of impatience pumping fast in his veins to strike at Sidious and end the terror seizing both of them. Free themselves of the galaxy which sought for their end.

The usual silence which brewed with the Dark Side wrapped around Móni and hit her knee against his.

“Hey. Come here,” she patted on the empty spot beside her. “What are you scowling at? Get over here.”

There was some reluctance in his stiff movements before finally lying back and avoiding any eye contact; finding the monotone ceiling to be his only source of comfort. Her soft chuckles didn’t help improve the situation and which he growled at.

“What?”

“Nothing,” there was an attempt to restrain the giggles and Móni partly succeeded in doing so.

But when she took his hand into hers it was as if she sucked everything negative out of his system and pushed her feelings into him: the serenity and care and tenderness of it all. The tension in his muscles thawed and was relaxed in her presence while also clearing his thoughts.

“Should I not have repaired the image?”

There was a sudden flux of guilt that forced him away from the ceiling and to her calling the holoprojector to hand. She illuminated it without the concerns and paranoia she had previously and admired it for the first time.

Móni shook her head, “I’m glad you did.” She blinked back the water in her eyes.

The smile Maul had hoped would have been the initial reaction formed and he sunk deeper into the thin material against his back at his success.

“Sorry about earlier,” she wiped at her face before any tears could fall. “Being difficult as usual.”

“Difficult is when you force me into the kitchens and cook.”

“What? You liked it! I know you did.”

“I do not recall ever saying if I did.”

“Never said you didn’t either.”

“Are you questioning your lord and master?”

“Is that what you are? Can’t say I’ve noticed.”

He huffed in amusement, “Clearly.”

Her lips stretched wide in a grin with a peal of playful laughter that filled him to the core and softened the rigid lines on his face.

“You’re just Maul to me.”

Maybe in the past Maul would have struggled with the aspect of being anything other than thus, but the liberty of being someone without title or cause gave him a sense of gratification he never thought he wanted.

“Yes.”

Móni closed the distance to place a long, affectionate kiss to the corner of his mouth and when she pulled away the orange dawn sparkled with a flurry of emotions.

“Thank you.”

Unable to formulate a response with a twisted tongue, Maul grunted with acceptance.

They remained where they were, looking at the other without any sense of time. Feeling the other’s emotions, breathing in each other’s breaths, and admiring the other of everything they were.

Something new sprouted in Móni’s heart, soon to spread and grow into something she couldn’t control. Didn’t want to. And she allowed it to take root and fill her soul with a sensation she once thought had been lost forever.

“What is it?”

Maul sensed a strange shift in the Force and new breathing patterns that expanded her chest; deeper and louder.

Móni opened her mouth, hesitant, and waiting for the right thing to say, then it flowed out naturally.

“When Ravi died, for the longest time I thought there wasn’t any room left in my heart for anyone else. Her death broke me,” her voice cracked at the life she led afterward—the path of self-harm and a complete disconnect from the galaxy and herself. “But not too long ago I discovered there was actually so much more room to give and it’s been filled.”

The fast blinks of astonishment were enough an answer as any that what she meant went completely over his horned head. She bit back a smile at the confusion, unable to bring herself to be disappointed or upset. How the reaction was utterly expected and so like Maul.

With a hand cupping his cheek, she pulled in him for a kiss on the lips—deep and soft to pour into his spirit what he did to her and how intoxicating his very existence was. In return he trickled pieces of his own into her; the devotion and attachment and fondness he had for her.

Then a heat she hadn’t felt in a long time filled her insides and her hands twitched to roam and mouth begged to taste more. There was a breathy desperation in the kiss but halted any advancement from a pang of uncertainty she could not explain. Móni was seasoned in picking up cues but she had gotten none from the reserved crime lord; having had not a clue how deep his desires went, if at all.

She pulled back, leveling her breaths to hide the desperation which threatened to explode, and gave the tip of his nose an affectionate tap, “So, how much longer until we get there?”

“Only a few hours,” he shifted his focus in thought. “Less perhaps.”

“Let’s get ready, then. Maybe tutor you in Naboo agriculture.”

“I know enough.”

“Tell me which season Naboo lettuce is grown in.” The answer he gave was a blank stare with a slight quiver of annoyance on his lip and to which Móni beamed at an opportunity she dared not miss, “Guess who’s teaching who now, huh?”

The growling protest had her erupt into a fit of laughter Maul couldn’t bother to be frustrated at. His efforts to hear it again a total victory.

Naboo.

The name alone transported Maul to the pain. The realization of failure. Falling. Alone and forgotten.

There were blotches of memory between Naboo and arriving on Lotho Minor and he didn’t think he ever wanted to remember. They could stay quiet in the dark traces of his mind until the day he died for what he could recall was fire at his midsection, blood drawn from claw marks on his skin, and a throat hoarse from deafening yells to drown his own thoughts.

“Look at those mountains!”

Móni erased the heavy lines on his features with her open optimism; masking the doubt and anxiety she wished he wouldn’t feel but was blatantly obvious to him.

They entered the planet’s atmosphere with ease, as it seemed the ship’s instruments bypassed the scanners and landed without any form of resistance so far.

“Wait.”

He stopped her from jumping off the ramp and beckoned her to him with two fingers.

“What? What are we waiting for?”

She was jittery to take in an eyeful of a new planet where her mother was raised, the nerves of excitement and peril clashing, and making it almost impossible for Maul to fit the cloak around her.

“We are looking for transportation to the capital. Do not get sidetracked or raise any attention to yourself,” he warned. “Keep your face hidden.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Móni fanned herself at the collar, “Ugh, it’s hot. I need to get out.”

With the Force, Maul raised the hood over her head before she stepped out into the sun.

Unlike Andelm IV which was mainly covered by fluorescent forests and bright leaves, Naboo was predominantly green with plains as expansive as the ocean, providing clear views of the mountain ranges on the horizon. When Móni shut her eyes to the sounds, the winds carried the scent of livestock that grazed the lands or the buzzing of insects, and from the soles of her feet, she could feel a soft rumble from leagues away.

“There’s a waterfall nearby.”

Maul’s features were shadowed by the hood over his head, scanning the shipyard and the local residents in their neutral clothing that weren’t as refined as those who lived in the capital but held some elegance, nonetheless.

“Come.”

He nodded at the direction they needed to be heading, Móni scarcely paying any mind to the turns they took on the streets, her curiosity brimming toward overload to explore every aspect of such a technologically advanced society with ranchers and farmers.

Her neck craned at the stalls of produce they sold and one such wafted a delectable, sweet scent she was able to immediately name.

“Móni.” The moment he felt her presence distancing, Maul needn’t wonder why and backtracked fast her way, “What did I say?”

“But those are the famous Naboo honey rennetcakes! I’ve never had one before,” her mouth watered at the golden-brown pastry with infused herbal leaves decorating its top.

A battle that had already been lost the moment she set her eyes on the foodstuff, Maul flipped credit chips at the merchant and inclined his head for her to take what she wanted.

The worries were overcome by an outstanding level of delight as she chewed on the final pieces of her slice. It was brighter than the sun that beamed down on them and he found there was an astonishing amount of patience for her now. What used to send him into ill-tempered fits at her mischief was now a welcomed sight.

“Oh!” Móni pointed at another stall of fruit dishes but was shut down immediately by a stern look from Maul. Her finger drooped, “Alright.”

Somewhat welcomed…

“When we return,” he mumbled as an afterthought at her pouts.

“And some of those panis too?”

He grumbled incoherent words to himself, already seeing past her little game of making more requests until she couldn’t stop.

“It’s not like you don’t have the money. You’re practically loaded.”

“That is not the issue. We are not on a leisure trip and are dangerously exposing ourselves.”

“Yeah? Best make the best of it then if these are our last days.”

Maul groaned a sigh of acceptance, “There is no arguing with you.”

There was a silent victory in the ‘yes’ Móni exclaimed to herself and licked her fingers clean with enjoyment. 

Móni stood outside the edifice that housed hardware and equipment, taking a look at the backlot where there were an array of parked speeders and speederbikes. She couldn’t tell which ones were in good or bad conditions, or if they were priced too high or low—the extent of her mechanic skills quite limited along with an eye to tell such things apart. 

Coming from inside she recognized Maul’s low timbre speaking to an unknown salesperson, then was gravitated to the holonews airing from a cantina across the way. She peeked into the quiet establishment that carried various herbs hanging from the ceilings and webs of vines on the rotund walls. Above the bar was a viewscreen that flashed for the Imperial HoloNews and displayed a dark and handsome man waving to a crowd in an Imperial uniform.

“ **Quarsh Panaka, once a bodyguard to the late Queen then-Senator Amidala, has been selected by the Emperor himself to be the Moff of Chommell Sector. He has chosen residency on Onoam, one of Naboo’s moons, where construction of his chalet has already begun.** ”

There was a hum in the Force, alerting her with their soft vocalizations in her mind of several presences in the area. She scanned the empty stools, the sparse humans and gungans throughout, then a group of Imperial officers. They were huddled around a holoemmitter of a galaxymap zoomed into several systems in the Outer Rim. Móni leaned forward to get a better read of the planet names that were listed and to catch spurts of their whispered conversation but there was a strong tug on her cloak that pulled her away.

On her arm was an older man with a wide-brimmed hat and white hair underneath. His liver-spotted hand shook with an overexcitement that matched his wide and wet gray eyes.

He babbled nonsense through dry lips and was making an awful racket of it.

“Shh!” Móni put a finger to her mouth, trying to get her arm back. “I don’t have any credits on me. Go away.”

The old man clung with desperation now, trying to speak, then his expression altered as if reliving a memory when he reached for her face.

Móni jolted back from the touch then heard the officers’ voices rise to attention at the disruption.

“Great.”

She ripped away from the man and slipped out successfully out of sight.

“Do you have spies keeping track of the Empire’s movements?”

They walked away from the parked speederbike, unable to drive it through the narrow roads, and Maul was exclusively focused on the device in hand to lead him through the populated streets amidst grand circular and polygonal architecture with domed tops. Móni’s jaw dropped at the cultural richness in each column, arcade, and tholobate of the buildings; the craftsmanship put into every design and the quality only rising as they progress deeper into the city.

“Few. Dryden has proven them to be more of a liability than an asset.”

“Maybe if he wasn’t their source of contact there would be less issues. He doesn’t strike me as espionage material.”

She was tempted to leave Maul’s side again to get a closer inspection in a quaint alley with a fountain pouring out of the decorated wall at its very end.

“The eldest Vos was recruited to be our inside source. She and Dryden are aware of the consequences of any mishaps.” He turned a corner and led them down another path, barely taking the time to look up and observe the rich surroundings except to scour for enemies. “What is on your mind?”

“May or may not have run into some Imps talking about the Outer Rim Territories.”

Maul whipped his head, the hood nearly flying back off his head and eyes bright under its shadow, “You are treading on thin ice, Durmónia. Keep your curiosity in check else this whole operation will be jeopardized.”

Móni crossed her arms, analyzing the being before her with some narrowed suspicion at his tense demeanor and snarling face.

“You didn’t have to come, you know? You’re actually needed more at base than here with me.”

He jolted at the affront… and the truth, “Anything Sidious is involved in affects the two of us.” The rage stretched out his mouth into a snarl, “And it is apparent you are an important commodity to his plans and to have you travel alone in his homeworld is entirely out of the question.”

“Don’t trust me to handle a few stormtroopers? Or tracking them to you?”

“That is not--!” Maul clawed the sides of his head through the fabric of his gloves, “You have not been functioning at your full capacity since these endless series of revelations and there is no telling what knowledge buried here would do to you.”

She slunk at the shreds of emotion Maul refused to acknowledge and share; holding it in because his pride wouldn’t allow it.

“I know you may be scared for me—”

“I am not afraid!”

His roar carried down the narrow street and bounced off the walls that shaped it, the fists clenched tightly at his sides quivering with escalating fury.

Móni’s eyebrows rose in shock, “Whoa—”

“What’s going on over here?”

The unmistakable voice of a stormtrooper speaking through their vocoder broke through the crowd of onlookers who were just as startled by the noise.

For external purposes alone, Maul masked the disarray on his features with cold hatred, but Móni felt beyond the barriers he erected and went straight for the violence that twitched his fingers at the hip.

In a swift step that could rival the soft winds which blew through them, Móni was at his side with a hand over his shaking one.

“Let me handle this,” she spoke with a tone meant to sedate the scorching gales. “Give me the licenses.”

“They will recognize you.”

He did his best to squelch the panic in his tight throat, but the deep breaths gave away more than he intended.

“It’s alright, Maul,” Móni kept the light inflection of her tone and how understanding she was. “I promise they won’t.”

She saw straight through him; more than he ever wanted her to see. Someone weak and inferior and unable to hold himself together. Someone who was has failed time and time again.

 _Don’t do that to yourself_ , Maul blinked wide at the voice in his head. How dire the situation was if he allowed his mind to be invaded. _Come on. I’ll get rid of ‘em quick._

He hardly remembered placing the holoprojector on her outstretched hand or her twirling off with a wide grin at the troopers. Maul was limp where he stood in the background while Móni finessed their way out of the bloodbath he wished for. 

“Sorry about the noise,” Móni sauntered to the two, armored men. “Lover’s spat. You know how it is.”

One of them gave her attire a one over and the dark difference compared the russet-colored locals.

“You’re not from around here.”

“Nope! We’re used to more temperate climates that deal with less sun. Doesn’t do too well on our skins,” she fanned her face then displayed a holoimage of their licenses. “Just here to trade legumes and carotas for vitus and solanum berries.”

They examined the license and she felt their scrutiny behind the tinted visors of their helmets.

“Ma’am, I don’t know how long it’s been since you’ve been here, but there’s a new law that requires only a physical form of identification like in a cylinder or datacard or whatever. These don’t cut it anymore.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Uh, six standard months ago?”

“We just came from Alderaan and we didn’t have an issue there with this.”

“Really?” one scratched their neck in thought. “Wasn’t it galactic-wide?”

“Beats me,” the other responded. “I don’t follow all this farmer stuff.”

“How about this,” Móni interjected. “Point to me where I can get this transferred and I’ll do it as soon I’m done with my business here. I don’t want to go through this again so if having one makes things easier then by all means. I don’t care. Just wanna get my job done and go home.”

“Do you know where she can do that?” a trooper whispered to their partner.

“You know what? It’s fine. Just be sure not to cause a racket anymore and get a proper form of identification. Move along,” they angled their blaster to the eavesdroppers who stuck around. “Move along. Shows over.”

Not even a spot of perspiration on her skin, Móni sighed at being done with an inconvenience but was met with another when Maul was nowhere to be seen.

“Now who’s being the difficult one?”

However, searching for his Force presence was nothing trivial, and one she was able to command like a natural instinct. Through the streets, she followed back to where they were and the alley she was enthralled by not too long ago.

Sitting in a niche wall that was deep enough to hide oneself from view, Maul had his head bowed in meditative silence.

“Make some room for me,” she shooed his legs to one side while she sat adjacent to them, her back to the wall and across from the somber being. “Wanna tell me what happened?”

He worked his mouth, prepared to show off some cuspids but restrained from doing so.

“No.”

She took a deep breath and blew a lip trill, “That’s fine because I can tell you exactly what happened.”

“Not another word, Móni,” gold tinged in deep red revealed themselves and they were meant to scorch the skin. “I am warning you.”

Unabashed by the idle threats, Móni continued, “You’ve been stressed since we landed. Maybe before then when you decided to tinker with my holoprojector. Whatever it is you’re holding in, I’m here to listen. You know that.”

“There is nothing to tell,” he spoke slow and deliberate, enunciating every vowel to get his point across and how much he wished to not speak of himself.

She leaned back, smacking her head lightly against the stone with temporary defeat until she could find a solution.

Small and pleasant sounds filled the space they resided in. The soft trickle of water that flowed out from the spout in a wall and into an exquisite basin, aged with natural decolorization and overgrown vines that have bloomed with summer florals. Several birds chirped songs as they soared down to the pool where they bathed and Móni admired their carelessness.

“Looking at this place, it makes sense where Mother got her tastes from. It’s a gorgeous planet. A shame she constantly went off-world to do whatever work she sucked herself into. Then again, maybe I would leave too if the only thing it brought back were memories you wanted to forget.”

At that, she glanced ahead of her and Maul had stared back, piercing right through the center of her head.

“I know what you are doing.”

“What am I doing?”

“Do not take me for a fool.”

“We both know I’m the biggest fool out of the two of us.”

He turned away in a huff, “You are no fool, Móni. Only…” There were no words to paint an accurate picture of what she was at that moment.

“Insufferable. Meddlesome. Irritating. Disappointing. Maddening… Hit one yet?”

Maul shook his head with exhaustion and stopped at a subtle vibration that reached his mid-section.

Móni traced a finger along the steel calf of his cybernetics, feeling their sleek texture and grooves that shaped them, then ran her fingers along the deep scratches from his many battles to the bent kneecap where she rested the whole of her hand. He could not feel the sensation, a part of him livid to have been unable to do so, but the action mixed with her intense curiosity and authentic wonderment eased away any traces of negativity. Instead, he watched her mindlessly caress the inorganic part of himself but a part of him, nonetheless.

It was like being in a trance, watching her become familiar with something he had abhorred for years, and yet she treated with infatuation. That they were not repulsive in any way.

And it came flooding out. The Trade Federation. The blockade on Naboo. The mission Sidious assigned to him and failed to uphold. From finding the queen on Tatooine to battling the Jedi, Maul unveiled his victory and devastating loss against a padawan, even the time he spent on Lotho Minor.

“I was raised in darkness. I fell back into it and survived from it. And now I will thrive in it,” he shut his eyes away from the remnants of the crazed creature that often lurked in the deepest crevices of his mind. “I will never forget what has been done to me. Never forgive. Never cease wanting to make them suffer as I have. Take away what has been taken from me. Then they will regret having ever wronged me and burn.”

Móni aligned and compared the size of her boot to his larger steel foot, the joints and machinations that made it bend including at the sole. She tapped the rounded tip and considered her thought over and over to the point it was useless to overthink it anymore.

“You’re scared of Palpatine. May even respect him,” when she met his dead stare she did not stop. “Being here, not only does the planet signify your fate but it is also a remnant of what he was and holds secrets you want to know about. Things you never knew about. You’re scared of wanting to know more because of what it means. That despite what he put you through he is still the man who raised you.” She wiped at a watery eye before it had the opportunity to fall, “Then abandoned you. I can’t even begin to imagine what that’s like.”

Maul examined the flecks of water on her lashes and felt the touches of her sympathy through the Force. He didn’t like it, how she wrapped his pain around herself and carried it.

“It is in the past,” he strengthened with resolve. “The vision is all that matters and what we may discover here may elevate its success.”

“Alright, but,” she rested a hold at his ankle and tightened, “it’s probably a lot to ask from you but don’t push me out when you get this way. I, more than anyone, can understand what it’s like to be trapped with your own feelings. Think you can do that?”

He opened and closed his hand, reflecting on what she had asked of him and if it was even possible given the way his mind was programmed to combat such inferior notions of vulnerability to a living soul. But if she was making efforts to follow his small demands of allowing him entry into her past and abilities, then he should do the same.

For the first time, Maul gazed upon a being who was neither inferior nor superior to him. Someone who had given their all for him and not once claimed dominion over him. Then he wondered, tracing through memories, if he had done anything for her to match what she had done for him. Somehow, he couldn’t think of a single thing that could compare.

“I will try,” that was all he could offer for now.

She gave his leg a good, measured smack and stretched her lips into that crooked grin that made him feel unspeakable things.

“Good enough for me.” Móni hopped out of their hiding space and motioned her head, “Ready?”

Even after illuminating on the fear which nagged him, Maul’s posture was no longer straight, and his demeanor pulled every which way. From what she could sense, there was apprehension and impatience muddle within which made for a dangerous mix with the Dark Side.

“Hey.”

She stopped them within the building’s shadow cast by the late noon sun, giving them some cover from the crowd which passed the alley’s exit.

Maul stood in place, mildly intrigued by whatever new thing she had in mind, then tensed when she held his jaw to bring his face forward; pressing their foreheads and noses together. Móni breathed in his fast breaths and felt the immediacy to retreat from her clutches.

He growled, “Not here.”

“No one can see us,” she pressed closer, imparting her serenity and focus on the environment. Not the people he was ready to swing his lightsaber at but the sounds of water, insects, wind, and the distant melodies of some instruments.

For a moment he fell in tune with her visions, feeling what she felt and connecting with the planet. The smell of grass, the incoming rain, and traces of the cake she had earlier. Then he put his attention on her—the woman who imparted her life into his lungs, but the tranquility was broken when an odd sensation surfaced from her feelings. It was familiar yet one he hadn’t felt between them before and Móni was its primary source.

She pulled back fast at the mistake of allowing him to go in too deep and put on a poor show of recovery.

“Let’s get going, yeah? Daylight’s wasting.”

Maul was left in stunned stillness. He swallowed a lump in his throat to calm the jumping nerves at a speck of clarity of exactly what had charged the atmosphere and the gravitation of a desire that sucked him in. Then the odd diffidence in the way she had her back to him on the open street was what unclouded his mind and an assumption took precedence: why he hadn’t ever felt such things from her before.

The flames of passion were doused into something else entirely; returning the familiar and tightening sensation along his chest and expanding into his neck and eyes. Maul gripped the fabric of his pants and scraped at the steel underneath to remind himself of the harsh reality of his circumstances and of what he was. That he was less than whole and will always remain as such.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	14. Desires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Rated M for mild spice (super mild but just in case)...

The two hadn’t spoken since their conversation in the alley; Maul wrapped in dead silence and Móni reprimanding herself at the tiny slip.

 _It’s not a big deal, is it?_ There’s no way of knowing when it came to Maul, specifically when he does his absolute best to keep guard of his innermost feelings; leaving Móni to always second guess. However, the flux of anger he was sending her way was not a telling sign and she was stumped if it correlated with what he might have felt from her or not.

 _This is such a mess_ , then her mind drifted to the last time she was intimate with another being, which was before meeting Maul and having had taken an unspoken vow of chastity since the apprenticeship. Not there was any time for it with the rigorous schedule of serving a crime lord… Or the need to. The hyper fixation on a particular zabrak may have also done the trick.

A weary sigh helped deflate some of the stress and tried to distract herself with the stone bridge they crossed and the river that flowed underneath. It opened into a glittering lake with pavilions that stood tall and steadfast in the calm waters where several ferries created smooth ripples as they sailed through them. They were getting further from the main city and deeper into the country at the capital’s outskirts; more lakes that were unobstructed by buildings and golden plains that rolled beneath amber rays.

“So, going back to what I was saying earlier,” Móni attempted to strike conversation and possibly get a read on the level of his rage, Gigor being the highest she’s seen him. “The galaxy map the Imperials were looking at was of the Outer Rim Territories and around the area we’re based at.”

There was no change in countenance from the information, Maul keeping his attention straight ahead and guided by the memorized map in his head.

“Nothing to worry about, then?” she attempted a smile for good measure.

There was a subtle glance her way then another prolonged moment of silence until he finally opened his mouth, “The Empire has been moving into the territories for resources as of late. There is a large project in the works it seems, and no one seems to know what it is. Or comprehend its capabilities, whatever it may be.”

“Should we be worried?”

“We have expanded our range in which we’d be alerted if anything reaches our scanners. There is little else we can do.”

“Is there a fallback plan in case things go awry?”

He regarded her with less rigidity in his furrowed brow, “There is no cause for concern. We are taking every precaution.”

Móni absorbed the sincerity in his words, the flames of his feelings cooled to a crackling hum, but not enough to soothe her prickling nerves.

“If you need me to step away for a bit longer after this, I can stay at Andelm IV until you think it’s alright for me to come back. Or even with Kyp since he travels around a lot.”

And like switching on a lightsaber Maul reverted to reserved rage, the blood staining the gold and face marred with lines. Worst of all was the deliberate avoidance of eye contact.

“Fine.”

“Fine? Doesn’t sound fine to me.”

“If you have grown weary of my company then do as you like. I don’t care,” he picked up his pace to leave her in the dust.

The initial reaction was shock followed by mortification, but what drowned them out was outright fury. So much so Móni expelled some of it into a noiseless scream inside her cloak; although she wished the whole planet could hear the range of infuriation she had.

“That’s it,” she marched up to him, ready to face him head-on. “Does this have anything to do with what happened—”

They were silenced by an abandoned building with thick vines growing inside and out of cracks, overgrown with age and brown with decay. Even the grass had begun to make their scale along the wall and sinking it into the dirt.

Móni spun around to read the empty area. There wasn’t a market for several klicks back from where they came nor beyond. And when she stepped through the tall blades, kicked around some rubble that left remnants of a building’s base.

“There used to be a big complex here, but that’s the only one left standing.”

Maul bent down to observe the chunks of stone and steel that have melded with the earth. One was uprooted enough to read the faded font of what it once was.

“These are the apartments,” he confirmed then ran two fingers over grayed carbonization that have been scarred into the steel. “An explosion.”

“The apartment may not even be here,” Móni rubbed her face then up to her scalp to massage away the swirl of dread. “Was this on purpose?”

“Perhaps,” Maul analyzed the remaining structure for any weaknesses in its base then tore the entrance apart with a single flex of the Force. “Let us not waste time.”

Curt and sharp, _Gigor level mad._ _Perfect_.

Winds carried a cloud of dust mixed with ash from the incinerated and skeletal interior. What used to be a lobby was shattered by fallen beams, crushing some overturned furniture that was scattered throughout. Above was a direct ascension to the many floors and empty rooms and to a spot of amber light that shone through a possibly open roof.

Without power, the lifts were useless and beyond repair to take them up and so Móni offered her hand in the hopes Maul would take it.

“Probably wouldn’t advise any Force jumps.”

The bit of logic caused a sharp exhale through his nose and took it with obvious reluctance. But despite the refusals, she pulled him close to her side, wrapping his arm behind her waist while she did the same to him.

She ascended slowly, mindful of the collapsing railings and ceiling, and counting the floors in her head as they went along; too invested in arriving on the correct one to notice the subtle squeeze at her waist and flittering glances her way.

Even behind the red hue of his internal outburst, nothing shifted in his feelings toward the woman pinned to his side. In fact, there were traces of gratification at her initiating contact once again and that however angry he was, Maul desired for her presence regardless. A rather strange and confusing blend of emotions.

Her lips made subtle movements as she counted to herself and was enthralled by them, even by the way she blinked and how the thin ends of her curls brushed her cheek. Then he delved deeper into the sensation of her waist, feeling its curve through the cloak’s fabric until a sudden image of naked hips moving under his hand flashed across his vision.

“What’s wrong?”

He made a frantic turn of his head to face Móni and read anything out of the ordinary, but Maul was flooded with relief when there was only worry and a high level of alarm. Then, with horrifying realization, noted the bruising grip he had on her waist.

“Set me down,” he pushed out through a tight jaw.

Móni made no protests, but was blatant in her bewilderment, “Okay. We’re here, anyway.”

The moment his feet pressed to the floor, Maul broke out of the hold and made sure to keep his distance; his brain making an immediate flip to ignite a heated focus on their cause.

He charged down the hall, ignoring Móni’s concerns about weak floors, and followed the faded numbers that marked the apartments. And maybe he should have heeded her warnings for he barely reacted fast enough to follow the Force’s reflection of an incoming misstep of his foot breaking straight through. However, with timed reflexes, managed to settle both feet on solid ground.

“Told you.”

She didn’t say it to mock nor intended to, but it was all Maul’s ringing ears could translate. Once he caught a glimpse of her hovering off the ground, he threw a comment over his shoulder:

“Not everyone has the ability of flight.”

“I hope not,” Móni refused to feed into his anger with her own and instead hoped to draw out whatever was eating him away. “Can you imagine ol’ Palpatine flying around and causing mayhem? That’s a scary image.”

Maul scoffed and could barely contain an eye-roll as he continued forward, paying better mind to his surroundings.

“Can you at least give me a hint at what I did wrong?” she couldn’t hold out on this feud any longer and if she knew Maul, the pent up anger often ended in catastrophe. “Did it have anything to do with what happened in the alley? Something I said?”

He stopped at the door that matched the keycard’s inscription and raised a hand into a crushing motion to be rid of the steel blockade. Then in the gray and dusty ambiance flit burning eyes her way that could have shocked anyone into fear. However, Móni felt beyond their coldness and was surprised to discover hurt and distress.

“No.”

He stepped inside without so much as gleaning her an explanation and Móni cocked her head, not satisfied in the least.

“No?” she called to him, loud and vexed. “No to what? There was more than one question.”

Before Móni crossed the threshold the Force screamed at her and she doubled over in pain, blocking her ears which never did a thing but created some illusion of muffling them out.

Maul had in hand the only object that remained intact in the collapsing room—too intact. And he too heard the Force’s hum and felt his skin crawl with something imminent. When Móni’s screams reached him he first noted her location then the doorway, and at the bottom of its frame was a blinking red light.

They caught each other in a deadlock, reality sinking in at the trap they walked into.

Móni made the first move, moving at such speed even Maul couldn’t track with his acute vision and covered him in a protective embrace before they were engulfed in heat and fumes and debris. He clung to her in an iron grip as they fell in unison, heads bowed into the other’s neck and desperately holding onto the other’s life through the Force.

It felt like time had slowed as gravity pushed down on them and the weightlessness in their stomachs increased, then Maul felt he was being spun over with Móni below him.

“Hold on to me.”

The fear was apparent in her labored whisper and he clawed at her back in response, tighter than before and feeling her chest heave against his.

She released her hold on him and extended her arms, halting as much of the building that was collapsing on them as she could. Móni groaned under the strain and slowed their fall until it seemed everything was in a standstill, debris and beams and steel floating aimlessly under her hold.

“Maul,” she spoke through gritted teeth and huffed with exertion, “do you see a way out?”

Maul pushed off her hardened shoulders and rolled off when there was some steady ground to carry his weight. No matter where he searched there was no exit he could find amidst the building slowly closing in on them. And when he took in the sheer amount of destruction Móni had suspended above them, drips of panic filled his stomach and rose to his chest then throat.

 _Focus_ , he reprimanded harshly to himself. He needed to do something, but the frustrations of being powerless and hearing her efforts escalate under the massive pressure hindered the resolve he needed.

Then it came to him, every moment he watched Móni shut her eyes to feel the planet and become one with it. When she dug her fingers into the earth or inhaled the breeze into her lungs and the serene smile that came after. Maul mimicked her motions and simply felt; the Force and his body.

A cold wind stroked his cheek and he followed it quick, igniting one end of his lightsaber and slashed for an opening that sucked out the suffocating smoke into the night air.

When he turned to make a remark, Móni had her trademark smirk and Maul was already feeling the beginnings of a snarl on his lip.

“Wait for me outside!”

In an instant, he was vaulted out by a force against his chest and rolled into the grass.

“Móni!”

He couldn’t be bothered to be worried when the sheer madness was setting in and contorting his features at her stupidity. But as the structure completely collapsed into a cloud of brown and gray, the pinpricks of concern made its way to his hearts and stopped his breathing.

Maul’s eyes were wide and vigilant for any signs of movement, any shift in the wreckage, any proof of her wellbeing until an eruption of rubble rose into the air followed by Móni soaring out high in the sky.

She landed a mere meter away, patting off the debris from what remained of the tattered cloak. When the effort proved futile, she ripped it off altogether displaying her full set of arms that were scratched and bruised and stained with grime along with her face.

“That was fun,” Móni coughed out the dirt she had inhaled and wiped her eyes.

Maul shared a different sentiment of their situation.

“What were you thinking?” he seethed.

“Saving your life?” Unbothered by his usual fits, she continued to clear what she could from her hair, coughing and swatting away the cloud she was making.

“And yours?”

Móni stopped her fussing to take in the flaring nostrils and heavy breathing of someone who was distraught.

“I knew what I was doing… sort of.”

“You give your life away too easily,” Maul recounted the number of times she was ready to throw herself into the fire, expecting to burn and never come out alive. That in some small part she wasn’t completely free of her demons.

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Móni closed the distance, their noses nearly touching. “You’re an important part of my life and with the power I have, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and everyone else I care about safe. It’s about the only sense of worth I can think of with who or whatever I am.”

The inferno in his veins simmered to nothing and what pumped through Maul’s body was an incredible sense of pride to be considered something truly valuable in her eyes and how much he meant to her.

He quickly tossed the gloves aside and cupped her face. His thumbs wiped away some of the soot under her eyes and around the cheek, and he had never felt so satisfied to feel the warmth of her skin again.

“You are… everything.” Maul’s strokes slowed, dragging his fingers down her cheeks to the jaw and just barely grazed the neck. And the response she gave was one of restraint; he saw it in the way she shut her eyes and swallowed back the sigh.

Then the flickers of fury returned and pulled away.

“But I cannot give you everything.”

She blinked fast, “What?”

Before she had the opportunity to interpret his meaning, the Force quaked the atmosphere of several beings on approach.

Móni dropped to the dirt and dug her fingers into it, then closed her eyes to feel the Force around her.

Maul too took the time to hone his senses on their surroundings and gathered something heading their way.

“Imperials,” she stood fast. “A lot of them. The explosion must have got their attention.”

He pointed to a forest’s edge a good distance away with two fingers, “We must hide for now and rethink our next move.”

Móni held her arms out to him with confidence, though it wasn’t what Maul felt in the slightest and remained hesitant.

With a huff she called his gloves to hand then was quick to scoop him in her arms, lifting off without giving him the chance to make protests. Although, to her surprise, he made no remarks and glowered at his legs instead.

“This is just a thought, but maybe you can elaborate a bit on what you meant?”

Maul’s scowl deepened. The defeatist attitude was the last thing she expected nor was the sense of humiliation she certainly had no intention of making him feel. Though, if she was the cause she couldn’t think of a single thing she’d done or said wrong.

“What I am sickens you.”

For the first time since Maul had known Móni, he slunk under the scrutiny of a perilous stare that could eradicate on the spot.

“I would rather waste my time with a bunch of Imperials because they are about the only thing that makes sense around here!”

“A welcoming proposition. Slaughtering Sidious’ minions is exactly what I need.”

The air shook with an incoming starcraft casting beams of white light to the grassy plains.

“We might be getting our wish. Although, I’m beginning to wonder if the explosive device was intentionally left there for us.”

“No. It was a trap made many years ago,” he withdrew the datacard he picked up before they were submerged in the debris. “This has to be at least two decades old.”

“So, we’re going to see what’s in there and look into what else we can find here, right?”

He sunk into her hold and navigated her vehement desperation to find more of her mother’s truths and the lies she had lived with her whole life.

Maul absorbed the pressing fingers on his arm at the wish to grant her this one, important request, and as the Imperials closed in, Maul settled on a decision.

“Very well. But if we are found or give away our presence in any way, we leave.”

“Okay,” she did a poor job of hiding how pleased she was. “We’ll lay low for a while and wait until they search at another location.”

She dived into the lowland forest that is mostly succumbed in green water with tall blades of grass and rocks overgrown with moss. The odor was the most peculiar part of the new terrain.

“Never been in a swamp before,” Móni scrunched her nose at the sulfuric scent. “Don’t think I’m a fan.”

Unbothered by the smell and boggy humidity, Maul searched the terrain moving fast beneath them and pointed to a gathering of mangroves where they slid into its cage of thick roots suspended over the still waters.

He was quick to illuminate the map of the city, for what reason Móni couldn’t be sure.

She shimmied at a root’s nub digging into her back then edged closer to Maul and alleviated the discomfort. He did not oppose the proximity, but the stiffened arms told her otherwise, including the calculative avoidance. And no matter how hard or long she stared at him for attention he did not relent.

“What are you looking for?”

“Locations to avoid when we fly back.”

“What for? I’m gonna fly high and fast for no one to see.”

When he responded with silence Móni arched am eyebrow and snatched the device from him.

She held a finger up at his open snarl and spoke over the start of his objections.

“While we wait for the Imperials to come through, I think there’s time for a little chat.”

“Now is hardly the time,” he went for the device which she extended away from reach. “They are close,” he hissed.

“Why did you say that earlier?” Móni ignored the approaching engines of a ship, which _was_ rather close. “Actually, why would you even think that?”

There was a huff of anger followed by an attempt to turn away, but the tight fit didn’t allow for Maul to even do that. He was stuck in a situation there was no getting out of and considered slipping into the marsh and drown himself.

“I do not know what you mean.”

“Maul,” the tease in her tone dropped and faced the questions with every bit of sincerity, including her own frustrations. “You keep your feelings so close and hidden that sometimes it gets really hard to understand what’s going on in here,” she pressed a finger to his creased forehead. “You can’t expect me to get it right all the time. You gotta help me out here.”

“And yourself?” gold shined bright in the night with accusation. “Have you not been keeping certain emotions from me as well?”

Móni gulped down the knot in her throat and could feel a cold sweat on the back of her neck, “So you did feel…”

She faded, trying to align the pieces of evidence to make some sense out of the complicated being beside her; going through every possibility of his meaning in rapid-fire. From the alley to his tantrums to avoiding questions, then she landed on the hands at his sides that held the pants in an intense grip.

The Imperial ship had made it over the swamps, their beam of light being cast over every inch of the terrain, and following on foot were several parties of stormtroopers. Their vocoded voices carried across the land as well as their loud approach.

Her morphing expression from confusion to total clarity made Maul wish he had been taken and buried from the explosion. Then, in an epiphanic moment, Móni exclaimed her understanding while also hitting her head hard against a hanging root which caused another painful shout.

“Quiet!” Maul whispered harshly and pushed her back down before she had the chance to come up again.

“You’ve got it all wrong. I don’t—,” she blew a soft exhale, remembering to keep her voice down.

An artificial ray of white skimmed the waters before them, then onto the opposite bank. When one came fast over the mangroves, Maul gathered Móni close and encased them in the single cloak.

The proximity forced their foreheads to touch and Móni tugged loosely at his collar and gathered her thoughts while also occupying part of her senses on the forces which surrounded them.

“For so many years, mixed with the alcohol and drugs was a lifestyle that was almost normal for me. Compulsive,” she licked her chapped lips from uttering a subject she had never spoken out loud. A quiet understanding mainly, between Zione, U’lis, and herself. Possibly even Kyp. “I don’t want to mess anything up.”

Maul felt the discomfort on the topic and one she rarely made mention of: the time before she had apprenticed with him. Then more questions he never thought to ask surfaced, wanting to know more when he thought he had already known so much. Even after the years they have spent together and her quirk to always overshare, that there was still so much more for her to say.

The splash of water and squelching steps on moss and mud clamped his mouth shut. The two listened carefully to the chatter between the soldiers and their footing around the area; their senses piqued to the highest sensitivity.

One stepped awfully close to where they hid, a steel foot resting on a root which the vibrations reached their backs and arms. When they inched closer Maul’s body tensed, turning on his defensive instincts by reaching for the lightsaber, but Móni held his hand whilst shaking her head.

“There’s nothing here,” one called further away. “Keep moving.”

As they began their retreat deeper into the swamp, Maul eased into her touch and entwined their fingers.

“How many years did you live in such a way?”

She blew air at the strand of curl dangling over her eye which Maul took initiative to move aside for her.

“A little over a decade? Almost five years sober now.”

Her mouth twitched for a grin, but it shrunk under an immeasurable amount of disquiet amongst the insect’s chirping calls and the last of the stormtroopers.

Maul softly pressed her shoulder to indicate it was safe to leave their spot and stood on the sturdy roots, holding onto caution for any remaining enemies.

He had made peace with a specific prospect of his lower half long ago but knowing her extensive experience made him second guess things he never would have considered as long as he existed. Never cared to. The pleasures of physical intimacy dashed from his life entirely since his apprenticeship with Sidious.

“You must understand,” the words were caught in the back of his throat but managed to choke them out on a heavy tongue, “I cannot properly please you. I am merely half of what I was.”

Móni reacted faster than her brain could process any form of logic, acting on her feelings. The heat of fury at how he thought so little of himself, the adrenaline of their enemies nearby, and that desire expanding into her fingers and gathering into her abdomen.

She pressed him against the twisting bark, body flush against his, and hands either side of his head as she dipped into his mouth with a sensation that differed from the other times they kissed. Her tongue skimmed his lips then pressed inside to clash against his own, forcing Maul to open wider and gave her every access to him—tasting the sweet treat she had earlier and wanting more.

There was more of her Maul hadn’t felt before, from her breasts pressed against his chest to the hunger in every motion of lips and devouring every bit of control he had left. He held her hips close and fingers reaching to hold onto more, but he lost any sense of himself when Móni skimmed down his jaw with her teeth and to his neck, nipping and licking at flesh.

His skin burned. His insides were a twisted mess. The ability to breathe was completely lost. And he surrendered to his destruction.

When the faint trace of a moan vibrated her lips, Móni’s pelvis grinded against his and her nails dug into the tree at a willpower she was slowly losing sight of. Eventually, she forced herself back up and bit his lower lip, lightly sucking and running her tongue over it, then held herself before him at arm’s length.

“I don’t want to be ‘properly’ pleased,” she breathed on him. “I just want you. Every inch of you.”

She had never seen Maul disheveled for he always maintained a striking appearance of command. He could barely keep himself upright, the cloak was sideways and unbuttoned (how that happened she couldn’t recall), and she had left him in a heated fog.

And Maul felt exactly the way he looked, more so when her voice dropped in a husk and her cravings splintering the wood by his ears. He fumbled for the seconds to catch his breath and slid his hands below the hips to trace along her backside which resulted in a deep inhale from her.

“You are holding back. Why?”

“Because I can’t, for the life of me, feel anything from you,” frustration twisted with strain in her throat. “If I’m going too far or not. If it’s what you want.”

At this, Maul took a moment to self-reflect on what she had been asking of him many times before: to express himself more. Without a doubt, he did wish for the intoxication of her touches and fill himself with her passions without barriers or restraints. He can’t count how many times he dreamt of beauty marks and hands and the flex of power that rolled under her melanin-rich skin. But he was beginning to understand the blockade inside himself more and what it was called. All he needed to do was admit to it—admit to a weakness that had been hindering his advances.

 _‘I just want you. Every inch of you,’_ he repeated over and over. How Móni had never deceived him. That disbelief still clawed at him and how any of this was even possible or real. She didn’t only want him but desired him, as he was, the jarring imperfections included.

Maul smacked the back of his head against the bark, working his tongue to spit out what needed to be said, but his mouth was pressed firmly shut and refuted any such thing.

 _How does she speak so freely!_ He could never achieve her level of competence in this particular skillset. 

“I—,” he ran his hands up his face and rested their palms over his eyes.

“We can talk it about it later,” Móni sensed an outpouring of distress he withheld earlier and rubbed his arms to alleviate some of it. “Gotta get going in case they come back around.”

“No, I can—”

There was no doubt of his determination, but the greatest hurdle he had yet to face—himself—was not anything she expected right away.

She uncovered his face to force every bit of his attention on her, “The effort is noted, but there’s no need to hurt yourself over it.” With a light peck on the lips, she made sure the honesty made it past his defenses and struck him deep, “Take the time you need.”

The pressure to satisfy her demands vanished entirely and Maul leaned further into the wood against his back; shutting his eyes for a moment to assess his feelings.

 _A disaster_ , the last time he was under this amount of stress was the Siege of Mandalore and may have considered that far simpler than the mix of adrenaline, euphoria, anger, frustration, and…

 _Fear_ , most of all fear.

Maul nodded, dissatisfied with the poor show of competence and expanding his chest with newfound hatred toward his enemies and within. However, Móni had a sound judgment on the Imperials circling back and chose to swallow down the self-pity to realign his focus on their task.

“If we wish to see what the datacard contains then let us return to the ship.”

“Sounds good, handsome,” she held her arms out expectedly but Maul held his reluctance.

“Return us to the speederbike.”

“Aw, why? Don’t like being carried?”

Rather than feed her curiosity, he kept his mouth shut and raised a single arm of his consent.

The moonless sky masked their ascension from any straying eyes and the sparsely populated nighttime life gave them a safe descent to the bike where they returned to the shipyard in the small village. And as Maul promised, gave Móni free reign to select the foodstuffs she wished for.

Inside a more comfortable environment and the opportunity to wash off the stench on their bodies, they settled on the single cabin floor, Móni becoming restless as she watched Maul insert the disk to a mobile computer.

The seconds that passed she nibbled on the remainder of the panis, eyeing the bits of food Maul had taken in small doses and logging his dislikes and likes to the new variety.

“Hm,” he rumbled deep from the chest and continued before Móni had the chance to douse him with questions. “Because of its age, it may take some time for the computer to decipher the data. Most of the evening perhaps.”

Móni flopped to the ground and groaned out her frustrations, “There’s always something.”

Maul traced his lower lip in contemplation, concern creasing the corners of his mouth, “We must remain vigilant. The device was not meant to be found and whoever laid the trap may have been alerted—if they are alive.”

“Do you think it was to kill Mother?”

“No,” he spoke in confidence. “It was placed after the building’s destruction and there was nothing left to return to. It may have been meant for the Count but never seized the opportunity to retrieve it.”

“Saved himself a few more decades.”

Maul examined a pastry he did not hate, half of it eaten away, but his stomach was tight with nerves and couldn’t feed himself anymore.

Their unfinished conversation swarmed his thoughts now they were well out of harm’s way—for now. As time progressed he was cultivating the confidence to pick it back up and be as forward he could possibly be. The closer he got to unlocking his mouth, however, the more difficult it became.

He glanced at her a moment, watching how she disassembled her lightsaber without lifting a finger and mesmerizing herself with the blood orange kyber crystal.

With a surge of will power he inhaled deeply, “Móni, there is—”

The soft chime of an incoming transmission carried down the narrow hall and it propelled Móni straight off the ground.

“That could be Kyp,” and rather than walk, flew to the cockpit.

Left alone with the mobile computer, Maul stared at the blue screen downloading the data as if it were the one to blame for the interruption.

He dragged an exhausted hand over his eyes and drooped with defeat.

“There’s always something.”

Truly words of impeccable truth.

There was no hesitation when she smacked a hand on the panel for a small-scale hologram of Kyp to appear—healthy and healed and hoped it was the same for his heart.

Móni’s face hurt at the plastered grin and was quick to speak the moment he appeared, “How are you? Was there anything you needed that I could ask Maul to request? I’ve been asking Qar-Tan but I don’t think he knows exactly what Zione has been getting for you. Now that I think about it, should have asked Shysha or Nyla—”

“ **Móni**.”

“Yes?”

He chuckled lightly, “ **I missed you too**.”

She slumped into the co-pilot’s seat and expressed her laments with how much she hurt him.

“I’m sorry, Kyp. I know not telling you about U’lis was wrong. I was so scared it would push you away and—I know U’lis doesn’t blame me, but nothing changes the fact that I was the one who let go because I wasn’t strong enough.”

There was a wince of pain in how his mouth quirked and the disconnect in eye contact, but once he shut his eyes—centering his feelings—Kyp responded with much more control than she had ever seen him have.

“ **A part of me blames you still. Not about being unable to save Dad or even why you never told me what really happened. I’m upset you didn’t trust me enough to help with what you’ve struggling with. I had no idea, Móni. I always knew you were suffering and assumed it was related to your moms or the abuse you had to go through to survive on Coruscant. But that there was so much more to it? And you _knew_! You knew I was Force-sensitive, and it still wasn’t enough to give me a chance. You’re always trying to be strong for everyone, but you never give us the opportunity to be strong for you as well**.”

His lashes fluttered to hold back the tears and returned to her with resolve, “ **You’re my family and I need you. I know you think I don’t, that I see you as a burden, and… yes, you can be such a pain and overbearing and always act before you think, but it’s what I love about you. You and your messed up head**.”

“What was that about my hair?”

With one swift slice through the tension, Kyp broke into a smile and huffed a laugh, trying to sound annoyed, “ **I’m serious, Móni! Unless me being trained under a Jedi is scaring you away?** ”

“Forgot about that, honestly,” she thought for a moment. “Do you like it?”

“ **I think I do. Nyla has mainly been showing me how to assess my feelings through meditations and self-reflection. Realizing the negative emotions and not acting on them so easily**.”

“Sounds peaceful.”

“ **Jealous?** ”

Móni barked a laugh, “Me? Peaceful? Doesn’t sound like it’s my kinda thing.”

“ **Maybe some of the Jedi teachings can help with what you’re going through**. **Can’t change the subject with me** ,” Kyp responded at the immediate drop in mood.

“Mm,” she hummed without denying nor agreeing.

There was no easy way to start a conversation about a complex issue, and how she only now understood withholding parts of herself pained him when he had always been so open with her.

She was beginning to understand Maul’s difficulties with sharing parts of himself with her.

“Kyp. How can I explain something I don’t even understand myself? And back then, before the Force training, I wanted nothing to do with it. I tried every way to block it from my life and that included talking about it. I didn’t want to acknowledge it or my existence. I mean, not even Maul really understands what I’m going through. And he tries. Force knows he tries… But as the one who is actually experiencing it, the one who can communicate with the Force and has abnormal abilities, I’m telling you that whatever the answer is, it may be beyond our understanding. That’s what I feel. No Sith or Jedi can help me. I’m—,” she let a stream of air to calm the quivering lips and tight throat, “I’m really alone with this one.”

Then Móni was enveloped and overcome with an immense feeling of protection and love and sighed at the light, spring breeze of Kyp’s emotions.

“ **Try. For me.** ”

No longer able to avoid the rehash of everything she told in segments to Maul but now in one, long cohesive strand of what she despised the most, Móni gave in.

“Better have Nyla or Shysha with you for some water because it’s going to be one crazy ride.”

“ **I think I’ll take some alcohol instead**.”

“Wait what? Since when did you--!!”

It was long. And hard. Probably one of the hardest conversations she’s had with anybody. Móni probably went through every stage of emotions and to their extremes, from wildly content to depressingly low. There were times she had to stop and catch her breath or recover from a light sob, and others where Kyp stopped to ask questions, specifically related to the Force and she always answered the best she could the way she would with Maul.

Some time in, the rest of the crew would drop in and listen. Shysha would veer the conversation elsewhere by expressing wonderment for Móni’s abilities and prowess, asking questions on the same note as ‘why don’t you become a crime lord?’ or ‘you should set your goals to be the next emperor’. Qar-Tan was quiet but stared into the holoprojector like a child who was being read a bedtime story. And Zione was reserved alongside Nyla, however, there were a few occasions he made his usual quips and reflected on certain things she did that ‘made sense’ as he put it.

Most of the time, Móni’s focus was on Nyla. Slowly realizing that maybe it was time to hear things from another’s perspective despite the protests she would hear from Maul.

“Nyla, what’s your perspective?”

The old theelin was silent for a long moment, her position unchanging once she entered the transmission and listened to Móni’s tale in meditative silence.

“ **There are many things about the Force that was unknown to the Jedi Order** ,” when she revealed her gray eyes, they held much sorrow for her eradicated home and family. “ **What we did know was to trust in it, despite it often leading us to a path we do not wish to follow. The more difficult choices are the ones we often do not wish to see but as you have experienced yourself, to achieve one’s goal is never an easy process nor is it meant to be**.”

“You’re telling me to do what it says despite everything it put me through? To follow it without question?”

“ **You may not see it, Durmónia, but from my perspective, the Force has been trying to aid you the moment you were born**.”

Anger fueled her veins and was on the brink of unleashing it upon throughout the ship, “Even the Rogue Jedi?”

“ **The Force speaks through the Rogue Jedi the same it did with your Ravi and Kyp’s father. He may be trying to help you as well.** ”

The level-headed approach along with the cool disposition was one Móni was not used to conversing with. There was no itch for an argument or heated discussion, there was only the feeling of speaking with calm diplomacy which gave her a first real look into the notable differences between the Jedi and Sith.

“If he thinks helping is by giving me a hard time to sleep and think then he’s got a funny way of trying.”

“ **I know little of the Rogue Jedi, including his personality which, based on what you have shared, remains steadfast even after we return to the Force**.”

Qar-Tan snorted and covered his mouth quickly to hide the playful grin.

“What, Qar-Tan?” Móni snapped.

“ **It sounds like he’s messing with you** ,” unable to contain it anymore he guffawed at his own theory.

But when no one protested the assumption Móni slammed her hands down on the panel at the startling realization.

“That bantha cur! I knew there was something strange going on. It all makes sense! He’s only trying to get my attention and being cryptic on purpose. And guess what? I don’t care about what anymore.”

“ **You didn’t care before, though** ,” Kyp sighed.

“I care even less now.”

Kyp side-eyed Qar-Tan with disapproval, “ **Good job**.”

“ **Can you fight him in your consciousness?** ”

Shysha’s question sent Móni into a startling silence of discovery, “I don’t know but I’m definitely going to try!”

Zione rubbed the wide space between his eyes and shook his head, “ **There seems to be a pattern with you and your family affiliating with Sith, and your mother suffered for it. Don’t make matters any worse for yourself, Móni. You’re already walking a fine line here**.”

Móni grimaced under the harsh criticism of the unspoken, yet obvious, connotations.

“Maul is the one who’s been helping me in case you haven’t noticed.”

“ **Only because he’s getting something out of it too**.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” her grip on the chair’s armrest cracked under the strain. “I also want Palpatine out of our lives.”

“ **Then what?** ” Zione stood, his ire clashing with Móni’s. “ **You’re going to rule alongside him? Congratulations, you helped put another tyrant on the throne.** ”

“If I was able to convince him to help the gigorans then I could—”

“ **The gigorans have it better than most but they’re still jailed on a planet with little communication to the galaxy. It’s only thanks to you and Avin who work behind the Black Sun’s backs that they could barely contact the Gigor**.” He pointed a flat-tipped finger at her with warning, “ **The Alliance is occupied with the Empire, but the crime families are not completely off their radar, Móni. Maul is going to get what’s coming to him soon and you’re going to burn with him**.”

The armrest shattered in her hand and threw the pieces aside, “You spying on us now?”

Kyp was quick to interject and glowered at Zione, “ **No. We do some odd jobs for them every now and then, but we’re not part of the main resistance. We know nothing about their operations, and they don’t ask about ours. Recently, however, I was asked to find some things for them relating to the Pykes…** ” He lowered his gaze, “ **I took the job. Avin knows about it and I’m sure Maul does too**.”

“When was this? Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

Again, there was the control and that feeling as if he was looking within for an answer.

“ **Avin understands his role and who he’s working for. He doesn’t agree with most of the things going on with Crimson Veil, but he made his choice and is more aware of it than you realize. But you, Móni** ,” he pressed his lips in a thin line with uncertainty, “ **you’re guided by your emotions. You want to do everything you can to protect me but in the mix, you were also swayed by your feelings for _him_. You can’t have it both all the time and at some point, it’s going to end very badly for you. So, I made the choice I wanted without possibly being persuaded to find a middle ground with Maul**.”

There was a suppression of pain in her chest she refused to let take control, for Móni couldn’t refute the reality of her circumstances. But she couldn’t help the feeling of betrayal and didn’t think it was within her right to defend herself when she had already wronged Kyp.

She cleared her constricted throat and spoke with a cracked voice, “This means you’re not working with me anymore?”

“ **Most likely not** ,” Kyp’s control fractured and opened himself to the harm he didn’t mean to inflict. “ **Avin or Maul haven’t said anything about not communicating with you anymore. It’ll be like how we were before—no crime syndicate to bridge or divide us anymore. Right?** ”

“Sure, Kyp,” Móni winced for a smile and failed miserably to hold it up. “If that’s everything I better get back and check on that datacard.”

Kyp was ready to make his protests but Nyla cut the tension.

“ **Durmónia, there is something else you must know** ,” Móni was but a press away from severing the transmission and stopped. “ **The holocrons, although used often by the Jedi, are also mysterious relics of the past that hold much knowledge. Jedi holocrons can be combined to transfer, copy, or connect pieces of information. But if this Count and scholar have been looking into both Jedi and _Sith_ holocrons, there is no telling what combining the two may do**.”

Without acknowledging she had understood, their holodisplay was shut down.

Móni spun the chair around fast and raced to the door’s panel, catching the tip of a horn retreating into the cabin.

“ _Did_ you know?” she called for him and when there was no response expelled her anger into the Force for him to feel every inch of it. “I know you were listening.”

Maul stepped out into the narrow hall, somewhat reserved but exhumed confidence in his squared shoulders and straightened back.

“Jor accessed the Pyke’s logs and traced what Kyp had been searching for. This rising insurrection is aware of our capabilities to work around the Empire’s travel routes and scanners, notably the Pykes and Zygerrians who have not suffered any devasting altercations to their spice and slave trades. The information taken did no insurmountable damage to our name nor revealed my identity, however, I have assigned Baelis to keep close attention for any more slicing in the future. I have little concern for the ‘rebellion’, their attention is solely on the Emperor for their skittering forces can hardly combat the Imperials’ and they have no resources to rise against two empires at once.”

“What about Kyp and the others?” Móni didn’t care for the movement either, her concern only for those who mattered. “What if they step out of your boundaries and do something you really don’t like?”

Maul crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorway, taking into perspective the conversation he did overhear and how attached she was to the child and his counterparts. An attachment he recognized as one between Savage and himself.

 _No_ , he corrected, _Savage’s attachment to me_. To not fail and meet his expectations and protect. The protection was his strongest aspect and what Móni displayed for Kyp.

“It is my understanding this was an isolated incident and done specifically to break ties with Crimson Veil.”

“You mean Kyp did it on purpose?” she couldn’t believe it—refused to. “But _if_ he does? What will you do?”

“He is no fool, Móni. I trust he understands what will happen if he does, else he will not only suffer my wrath but yours.”

Móni swallowed thickly, remembering why she was allowed to communicate with Kyp in the first place. She had dedicated herself to Maul, therefore the leverage Kyp was meant to represent to keep her at his side no longer existed. And Crimson Veil grew to depend on his capabilities so simply asking to leave would not only have been hard on her to let go but Maul would not have released him from his services so easily either.

Most importantly, it was a statement on his true feelings on the crime syndicates and Maul.

“Okay,” the seriousness of the matter was getting much larger, and what her friendship with Kyp was beginning to mean so long as she aligned herself with Crimson Veil. “Okay,” she nodded this time, affirming for herself that, yes, she understood.

Maul broke away from the frame when there was more than hurt and anger, but such a profound sense of loss.

“Móni—”

“I’ll be in the cargo hold,” her mouth worked to hold back the tremors. “Been hogging the cabin anyway. Your turn to sleep in it if you want.”

She rushed past and disappeared beyond the automatic door.

There were many emotions circulating through Maul, violence being the most potent and specifically toward the amani and Jedi. Zione testing her allegiances and the Jedi was no doubt the culprit behind Kyp’s choice. He had no business involving himself in this ‘family’ ordeal but if Móni starts to harbor doubts, then he will certainly make it his business and they will regret being so impudent with her.

‘… _but in the mix, you were also swayed by your feelings for **him**_.”

Not until that moment did Maul realize the impact he had on her. In many ways, he took pride in it, and in others had high concerns. Kyp, who had known Móni for far longer than he had, knew something he did not. Besides the alarming revelation that she had shared her feelings for him to others, Kyp was treading carefully around her. There was no fear nor anger when he spoke, but an immense amount of precaution was taken and Maul didn’t know why.

He stepped into the cabin, checking the datacard’s lagging progress and taking on the fortitude to not march into the cargo hold and do… what?

For now, he expanded his senses to trace her own and simply felt until the wild temperament lulled to a natural hum for him to return to her side. And Maul had never felt more eager to gather her into his arms than he did then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :]
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	15. Entwined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING** : rated E for extra spicy content  
> If you don't want to read any smut I marked the beginning and end of it with *asterisks*. I know I've been keeping this fic pretty Star Warsy until now so just in case if there any readers out there who have been reading my fic for that reason.
> 
> Uhm.... yeah. Here we go.

Móni hadn’t emerged from her confinement after many hours and the bouncing of Maul’s knee was an indication as any of his impatience. Meditation only worked for so long when she was consistently occupying his thoughts and he annoyed himself pacing around the ship. And glaring at the blue screen’s numbers did nothing to accelerate the datacard’s loading time, even after reaching the halfway point an hour ago.

It became difficult when Móni’s laments went through severe highs and he stood at the door’s threshold, pressed between descending to her side or holding out a little longer. Finally, Maul nestled in the cramped area where the staircase to the cargo hold was located, the length of a leg occupying most of the space. There he waited with head bowed and concentration entirely on her alone.

Long minutes passed and the soft vibrations and taps of someone ascending the ladder stirred him awake. Maul’s hearts jumped to his throat with anticipation when a head of black curls emerged followed by a face filled with care that reached deep into his spirit.

“Aren’t you uncomfortable?”

Maul extended his other leg and put on a small smile of reassurance, “My definition of discomfort involves missing parts or unoiled joints.”

She hummed with curiosity and he could see the questions scrolling over her eyes, “Does it take long to maintain them?”

“For thorough maintenance, an entire rotation. That sort of time is a luxury for me nowadays.”

“That’s about as long as it takes to take care of this,” she squeezed her frizzing and knotted locks against her face then unleashed them in a poof. “But a certain crime lord keeps me running around the clock with missions and training.”

He reached for a thick strand and rolled the soft texture between his fingers, “There has been no time to spare for either of us.”

“Or just us.”

She trapped him in a gaze that hungered, and Maul quite nearly fell into it, grazing a finger along her cheekbone and swallowing his dry mouth shut.

“I sense you are better?” he dropped the arm and retreated to his back against the wall, upholding the boundaries he couldn’t cross yet.

Móni’s sigh was a mix of frustrated emotion he wasn’t sure toward whom-- herself, Kyp, or him. Knowing her, it must have been the whole package.

“I cut Kyp off without giving him the chance to explain. Wasn’t brought up in the best way either, thanks to Zione. I’ll make a transmission when we have some free time again.” Her heart wasn’t put into the logic and uncovered the source of her afflictions, “It hurt still. Feels like he doesn’t trust me anymore and I don’t blame him.”

“Do you believe the Jedi had an influence?”

At this Móni inclined her head in thought, “Not entirely. Kyp always had a kind heart and he’s the type to fight for what he believes in. I don’t think he’s even doing a full Force training with Nyla. Just enough to handle the basics and an understanding of being Force-sensitive. Maybe as a way to connect with U’lis’ upbringing in a Jedi culture.”

Maul growled lightly at his personal opinion on the matter which he dutifully kept to himself, especially when Móni leaned into his space with a knowing smirk.

“You upset I talked to Nyla?”

A sneer reached a nostril at the tease and it only widened the smirk, pushing Maul deeper into his corner and raising a scowl.

“The information she shared was not entirely worthless.”

“Oh? You’re glad I asked her about it then?”

He grumbled a response and hid his face away when she pushed closer.

“What was that?” she held a giggle behind a wide grin.

“Yes! Is that what you wish to hear?” Maul exploded and it took every ounce of self-control for Móni to not laugh at his face.

“You didn’t have to say anything but thank you for sharing.”

There was a massive spike in his temper but Móni took it all away when she pressed a long, deep kiss to his cheek.

“And thank you for keeping an eye on me. I’m doing better.”

The drastic shift in emotions exhausted Maul. How she was able to flip his mood with little effort astounded him, and he could not deny the flutters in his stomach and short breaths when it was clear he did enjoy the sensations tremendously. If he didn’t he wouldn’t be begging for more every time they were near or apart.

Maul cleared his throat and nodded, holding up his flushed head with as much tenacity he could afford.

“How’s the datacard doing?”

“Slow,” he grunted, still not quite recovered from the exchange.

“Hm,” she hummed with affirmation. “You hungry? Didn’t eat much of what we brought.”

He shook his head, the question bringing back their unfinished conversation and the wave of tension he had forgotten.

“Something wrong?”

A groan was withheld at her persistence and strong sense of perception; Móni being able to define each one of his expressions and gestures.

 _If not now, then when?_ Their life didn’t allow for many opportunities like these and Maul knew, once they returned to D’Qar, their affair may not have the same liberties they were lucky to have now.

“You must have assumed my lack of experience forming attachments with another being by now,” he blurted the first thing that came to mind. “The Rule of Two is a powerful and strict code the Sith follow to combat the mistakes the Sith Order of the past had made. We—they were guided by their passions and with passions came attachments then greed and obsession. But what posed as the greatest threat to the Order was their shift in loyalty. The Rule of Two, you are bound to your master and to form attachments with another being meant splitting your allegiances. There can only be one master and one apprentice, anything that could break the cycle is considered a threat and eventual downfall of the Sith. Master Sidious taught me at a young age to sever those feelings permanently… and literally.”

Maul took a moment to collect the events that transpired many years ago and had been repressed. He had never considered nor thought about its effects until that very moment when he fixated on Móni curled at his side with crossed legs and a deep frown wrinkling her smooth features.

“There was one being whom I nearly formed attachments with, long ago,” he drifted, returning to a time when his horns were still smooth and rounded, and surrounded by those of a similar age. “Their life was severed by my own hands. Thus was the lesson Sidious implemented in me, the test for my allegiance to him satisfied, and one I carried out.” He held her wide shock and felt the trembles of her anger along his arm, “Until Savage. Until you.”

Móni felt a light pressure against her hand, Maul poking at it for her hold and which she followed his wishes ardently. She wanted to sympathize further but how he spoke of the trauma was with great disconnect. Almost without feeling which was entirely not within his character and ultimately strange. But when she remembered the times she was without pain or sorrow, its effects too massive for her brain to contain and shuts the body down, then she understood the monumental consequences of the experience had done to him.

“As for the other matter,” he trailed off, anger curling his lip back. “It had been attempted several times in the hopes to quiet the building impatience and frustrations of Sidious keeping me from battling Jedi.” Maul shook his head at the memories with disgust. “Being touched by another being, a stranger—someone vastly inferior to me—was not what I desired. No pleasure came from any of the experiences.”

When it was her being the silent one, Maul didn’t realize how anxious he was for a response after being so accustomed to her prompt remarks that held a wisdom only she was capable of giving. And the longer the seconds passed, the louder his hearts drummed in his ears.

It took time for things to click. Not only in relation to Maul’s history but her own. How Móni never truly reconciled with the many years of isolation in a highly populated planet.

“My life was empty,” she mumbled. “I had no one on Coruscant. Had no direction, not really. Just kept going up because that was the only direction I could go. It was an existence filled with strangers and temporary pleasures. Then U’lis showed up and gave it a smidge of meaning, but it was Kyp who wanted to see me get better. Be better. And I did. I tried. And it was… hard. It was hard to find meaning again and that I could be worth something.”

Móni exhaled the excess discomfort and faced Maul who made the very uncommon face of sympathy.

“What I’m trying to say is this is new to me too and probably just as nervous about it all.” She stroked a deep gash in his cybernetics and wondered briefly how he got it. “Despite what the others tell me and how they feel, and however you decide to move forward in this relationship, it’s not going to change anything between us.”

Clearer than any vision and more vivid than any dream, Maul was certain he needed every bit of her. From the tangled web on her head to the calloused fingertips, he wanted everything in between and more.

With a delicate touch under her chin, he guided her face to his and pressed gently against her plump lips. He pulled apart to inhale much needed air before diving in again but with greater earnest. And she followed his motions, going deeper and with wider mouths and flicking tongues.

It was when he traced his touches along her arm and to the thigh where he gripped and caressed it did Móni release a soft moan that triggered a feral instinct in Maul. Wanting to hear more. Wondered to what extent. How loud.

Móni felt she could catch on fire under the touches she hadn’t realized she famished for, but her grip was gathered at his collar; a single, fine strand of her control ready to snap.

Sensing the hesitation and quake in her fists, Maul pulled back—breathless and heated—to speak in a delicate murmur over her lips.

“I am yours.”

In one swift motion, she straddled his hips and worked at his top—yanking it apart to reach what she craved to admire for far too long. Móni pressed herself against his exposed chest and grinded against the metal parts, the friction sending her eyes rolling back at the spark of pleasure. Then she examined his toned pectorals with roaming hands, outlining the black designs that beautifully marked his crimson skin. No longer restrained with doubt, Móni put her mouth to his neck, starting off with kisses and licks before biting down near the collar bone, and the response she received made her absolutely crazed.

Maul squeezed her thighs and unleashed a guttural moan at a sensitivity he didn’t know he had. When she continued to bite at another spot his hips bucked involuntarily that made her groan with a desperate plea as she dug her pelvis against his.

He was face to face with a predator that could devour within minutes. She held nothing back and unleashed her desires onto him, sending him into a whirlwind of thrills and body pulsing to life.

“Take us to the cabin,” she ordered.

Maul rose with her legs wrapped tightly around his waist and his palms groping her bottom, lost in an endless series of wet and messy kisses while he navigated to the bed which he lied back on, giving every bit of himself to her.  
  


*****  
  


Móni’s fingers scrambled with impatience as she wrestled for the top to be completely removed and tossed aside, then went for the pants.

A dual-colored hand rested on hers and was met with a questioning stare.

“There is no need…,” he stated simply but also edged with unease.

She released the belt covering the divide between flesh and steel and sat back.

“If that’s what you want.”

Maul swallowed hard, wanting nothing to disrupt the exhilaration or give her any second thoughts at a sight that could arouse displeasure. But with a gentle stroke across his cheek, Móni planted the confidence he needed and a trust he could no longer live without.

He eased her off for him to stand and unwrapped the band that encased his midriff, disconnecting it with a click and a subtle hiss at the depressurization. Everything else fell away afterward, cybernetics exposed to her, from the connected waist to the smooth plated surfaces of the pelvic region and thighs. And Móni encased him in an embrace, nails dragging along the muscles of his back to his skull, legs touching his cool steel ones, and covered his mouth with hers.

His fingers skimmed the edges of her top where he touched the skin of her abdomen and when she sighed deeply into his mouth, granting him permission, Maul shoved his hands underneath and removed the fabric; gathering every inch of her waist and stomach against his palms. When he went to repeat the process for the undergarments, Móni shoved him to the bed and stripped the rest herself, climbing on top of him and filling him with her soft warmth against his flesh.

Maul memorized every part of her he could, from her defined arms to the muscles that shaped her back… and more. Rough patches of skin grazed his fingertips at old scars from her short years of enslavement and did his best not to allow the flecks of anger escalate any further; for once taming his violent impulses.

Móni’s lower body squirmed at a heat that pooled there, the endless kisses and his exploring touches driving her for more. She traced along a horn at his temple then the others, testing for responses, and was given light and pleasant moans from the zabrak beneath her. Then she inched toward their bases, his lips parting with a sigh.

She bent over him, pressing her tongue to a horn’s base and Maul’s eyes shot open with shock at the electrifying sensation that ran into his bones and reached the inorganic half. A part of him overthought what needed to be done on his part, the moist ministrations reaching his fingers and slightly numbing them, and Móni pressed into his consciousness—pleading for more of him.

“Don’t think,” she bit an earlobe and exhaled sultry breaths. “Just feel.”

He shut his eyes and followed her command.

Maul gathered more of her into his hands, skimming the sides of her breasts then grazed his lips over her neck; listening closely to the hitch in her breathing and feeling the rise in satisfaction. He bit down and the moan that escaped her mouth riled his insides and continued for more; clenching her backside and shoving her down closer whilst a growl escaped from deep within.

The noise aroused Móni into a frenzy that had Maul grip tighter at the strengthening sensation, but she lifted off and positioned a steel thigh between her legs and stroked her wet warmth against a slightly protruded curve that hit her clit perfectly. She shuttered a gasp which turned into a drawn-out moan that reached past Maul’s ears and directly into his senses as he felt the eruption of her pleasures through the Force. When she slid back up, he moaned with her at its intensity and every bit of herself opening up to him; her uncontrollable desperation becoming his and heating his body.

Móni dropped down and studied his form, finding the places he grunted or gasped or sighed at with bites and sucking; traveling from the broad shoulders and wide chest to the muscular ridges formed on his abdomen. She was astonished at the soft marble texture of his skin, her tongue glazing across it and her attractions for him falling deeper.

She nearly stopped when Maul exclaimed a different sound—higher in pitch and dire—when Móni rubbed the area that connected directly to the cybernetics. But she dug through the escalating tide of emotions he was too stubborn to share and caught glimpses of immense pleasure.

Her fingers circled around the midsection, rubbing and massaging at places to strike the sounds she wanted to hear, and found the center-front to be highly sensitive. She pressed her mouth to it and bit down, and Maul’s hips bucked as he released a strangled moan then panted when she sucked and licked the spot.

Maul rose on his elbows and shoved his thigh between her legs, a long growl ensuing a demand, and watched her lips part open with bliss.

“Open yourself for me,” Móni gasped whilst grinding into the smooth grooves of his cybernetics and pressing down with her thumb at the bruising bite marks. “Let me feel you.”

Slowly, his senses unfolded and bloomed for her and their Force energies clashed in a hurricane of ecstasy as she rubbed faster against him and pressed down on him further. Their passions melded into one, neither knowing which belonged to whom nor did they care. They lost themselves in each other’s thrill, their voices rising to newer volumes until they reached a muted note and took each other to a pinnacle point where they exclaimed loudly into the filtered air.

Maul collapsed back to the thin mattress, returning from the high. Breathless and fingers tingling at the immeasurable sense of gratification, and shocked to have been able to experience it. But he didn’t get the same sense from Móni, the atmosphere still charged with their emotions, and sat up fast.

Móni was just as breathless but her eyes retained the watery film of lust.

“I can keep going.”

He blinked fast at her for a moment, his mind still muddled from the climax, but when some lucidity finally peaked through, Maul pulled her beneath him and followed by her example.

Every second was spent familiarizing each part of her, playing her like an instrument and finding those moments he wished to hear over and over again. He also took some liberties for himself and satisfied a craving he’s had for years and pressed his lips to the darker spots on her arms, then the one above the collar bone, and a new one he had the delight of finding on a breast.

He flicked his tongue over a hardened nipple, finding it a momentous source of pleasure for her, and dragged his hand across the length of her body where he cupped a thigh and raised it to trail his fingers between the legs where it was glazed in cum.

The expressions, the noise, the smell, and how her hips moved with his strokes drove him mad with infatuation for the woman; her senses drawing him beyond the emotions but straight to how she felt and what he did to her. How she longed for him.

He dipped into her mouth, absorbing her moans into his own while he worked at finding the rhythm that pleased her.

“Like that,” her legs opened wider at his circular motions on the slick bundle of nerves and bit his lower lip in the mix of the slowly expanding euphoria.

Maul rumbled a low growl from his chest, hearing her silent demands through his thoughts, “What is it?”

And he heard, then listened with a hum of wonder at the request.

A light sheen of perspiration dripped between the heaving breasts and down the subtle musculatures of her firm abdomen, past the patch of hair and following the sweet scent that resided there.

His thumbs rubbed her inner thighs, another location that enflamed her body, then grazed his teeth over the sensitive flesh; nipping and teasing for her anxious whines and until her folds were dripping wet and swollen for him.

Maul lapped his tongue against the small nub and moaned loudly with her, Móni striking his senses with an explosion of intense desire. She lightly scraped her thighs against his horns and pressed her feet into his back, toes curling into it and her fingers wrapped around the other horns; tugging at them and rubbing their bases.

He ran his tongue lower, stroking the outer walls and sucking at her leaking juices, growling into the taste and smell that aroused his body into a buzz and the pressures against his skull.

Móni gasped her pleas and angled her hips for him to go deeper until she felt a delectable pressure pushed inside her and swirling until he hit the spot that made her cry out. And she expelled everything to him, Maul’s vibrating mouth sending her to the final stages of bliss.

But he pulled out abruptly and kneeled before her entrance and switched to his fingers, using both hands to stroke the clit and push inside her at the same time. And he watched as he worked her: the flutters of orange rolling back, mouth agape with escalating cries, and bouncing breasts exposed to him.

Again, her thoughts touched his own with another command and Maul complied by slipping one more finger inside. She rocked into his rhythm and her emotions pressed onto him, which he shook his head at.

“No,” his voice dropped in an unfamiliar husk at the image before him. “I want to see everything.”

He pumped in an even tempo, building when she did, rubbing faster whenever there was a shift in her breathing. Móni lifted her legs and pressed them against his chest, giving him fuller access and so she could scrape her ankles along his horns—Maul’s lips quirking to the side at the developing kink.

Then his lips moved on their own, shy to be asking something from her for the first time.

“Look at me.”

Móni might have climaxed from the pools of molten gold staring back at her alone. But she never broke contact, holding him in place even when the effects of his caresses were pushing her closer to the edge. The blood was pumping fast and hot under her skin and her thrusts became aggressive, her throat getting hoarse at an octave that was impossible to hit. Then in a shattering series of shouts, she arched into the burst of white that flashed before her vision and at Maul who gave himself a dose of her orgasm, rolling his hips in the same way hers did and mouth hung open with ecstasy.

After some final strokes and closing moans they shared, Maul pulled his fingers out and sucked on the translucent and milky film on them, finding the taste of her to be the best thing she had ever served him.

She chuckled at the loud sucking noises like a child who was given candy and beckoned him to her.

  
*****  
  


Maul put himself into her outstretched arms and hugged her around the waist, pulling her close and nuzzling into her neck.

They remained that way for several minutes, allowing their bodies to cool and the sexual drive to dissipate from their senses. Móni took that time to trace the designs on his back, her fascination for them increasing and pondering if they held any meaning like those of her devaronian mother’s culture.

“Well?” her lips murmured on his smooth scalp.

He grumbled a questioning groan into her neck, face still hidden from view.

Móni tilted her head carefully from the horn that peaked out from his temple and poked at his back to filter out some of the nerves.

“Did you… want to do this again?”

With some exaggerated effort, Maul propped himself up on an arm and leaned over, showcasing a rather normal and charming smile Móni had never seen before and causing the blood to rush to her face.

“Yes,” he leaned forward to press a soft kiss on the cheek then rested his forehead there, and repeated himself with full, breathless honesty. “Yes.”

Maul stroked her back with his knuckles and planted another kiss on a shoulder before facing her again, the smile tilting some.

“And yourself?”

Nothing could have outmatched the grins he had seen in the past than the one she gave him that moment. Everything about her glowed and her eyes lit with an emotion he could not describe.

“Yes!”

Although the enthusiasm was expected, Maul hummed his concerns, “I needed to be guided.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Then she made a bold smirk, “I know you liked it when I talked.”

Móni giggled when he bent by an ear to release a low and long growl that made her body warm again.

“I wonder, how long will you last if I continued doing this?”

“Not very,” she sucked in a shuttering breath.

He growled again for good measure while squeezing her behind, “That’s what I thought.”

The touches and noises turning her on again, Móni switched the subject fast, “Actually, let me see something. Turn over.”

On his back, Móni found the slight discolorations of her bites along his collar bone, pectorals, and the sides of his waist but it was especially bad where she made him orgasm. The difference in color notable with its purple/black hue against the crimson.

“Probably shouldn’t do that too often.”

Maul’s lip curled up with pain when she touched it and bit back the groan, “I can manage.”

“Sure thing, tough guy. Let me get back to you again when you get an infection and tell you ‘I told you so’.”

The growl he released was one she was more familiar with and marked his frustrations. But he sat up fast and raised one of her legs to reveal the inside of a thigh marked with dark lines from scratching against his horns.

“And this?”

“I can manage.”

Móni burst into a fit of laughter when Maul tugged her beneath him, but she wrestled out of his hold and switched positions; pinning his wrists above his head.

There was little resistance against her dominance, Maul knowing well the strength she had over him and one he considered a highly attractive quality, he realized. Down to every moment she fought using physical combat and how her muscles flexed from the efforts.

“What are you thinking about?” she rubbed her nose against his. “Sense you gettin’ aroused again.”

“The time you ripped the table in half in the commissary.”

“When you thought I was a Jedi? Yeah, I remember.”

“I believe my attraction for you began then.”

“Really?” she gasped. “That long ago? I thought you hated me then.”

“I never hated you.”

Móni’s grip loosened, “No?”

Maul shook his head, “As much as I wanted to, the emotion never came, and instead the complete opposite occurred.” He slipped out a hand and rubbed her cheek with his knuckles and was enlightened with a theory that had only occurred to him then. “Not for a moment was I training you to be Sith. It was an impossible feat with the attachments we slowly formed and my allowing you to deviate from the ways of the Masters before me.”

“What are you saying?”

He felt the well of distress opening to swallow her whole, but Maul was compelled to tell her and what he felt from the entity that bound them.

“My purpose was to bring you closer to the Force.”

Several emotions crossed her face: discomfort, confusion, acceptance, and also hurt. She couldn’t believe the confidence, the trust he had in the Force. How she would often forget the Force was his religion, his power, and part of what defined him. It granted him visions, kept him alive, and brought her to him.

Móni exercised her breathing and cleared her throat, masking the quake in her voice as best she could.

“Is that all?”

Maul tilted his head, hairless brows furrowed in question, and wiped a thumb across an eye that was filling with water.

“I spoke only of a will the Force had given me not the choice I was able to make. And I do believe, with both my hearts, that having you be more than friend or apprentice or comrade and being something irreplaceable in my life was a gift you offered and one I took willingly.”

At that moment, when Móni pressed his hand to her cheek and held it there, she felt more than the rough scar on his palm but the things she only dreamed of. It was unpolished and clumsy, yet it was the most beautiful feeling that had ever filled her spirit. Maul did his best to express beyond the surface-level of adoration he had only allowed her to see and imprinted in her the depths of his absolute devotion to her.

In Maul’s eyes, he saw a potential future filled with power and dominion over their foes with her reigning at his side. And he would give her the galaxy to make use of what the Force had gifted her with, and that he was destined to unravel the ultimate being. A being who understood him, cherished him, and was loyal to him.

He slid his hand down the length of her neck and to the space between her breasts, entrusting a promise to her.

“I am never letting you go.”

“Even if it goes against the will of the Force?”

Móni meant to slide it off as a joke but came out much more serious than was intended by questioning his faith and to what extent his confidence in the Force was.

But Maul hardly took the time to think it through, the answer so obvious to him.

“If it were against its will, I would not be here with you now.”

She subdued a well-wanted sigh at the extent of his understanding of what she was battling against. That their course wasn’t a sure one no matter her involvement or power. He couldn’t see, or refused to see, a deeper and darker conspiracy in the works and her link to it; Maul’s vision narrowed on a singular enemy they shared, but not a potential one.

Zione’s voice buzzed in Móni’s consciousness but she swatted it away, refusing to be overcome with pessimism and judgmental perceptions. She knew who she was with—what she had chosen.

But none of them knew what he had done for her and as she took his mouth into her own, deep and long, Móni was more certain of his place by her side; the threads of fate entwined into a knot and can never be severed—she made sure of it.

.

.

.

.

.

_There was a crackle then some pops in the audio datafile. A shuffle of clothing maybe, then a woman gasping for air as if she had been crying for hours._

_Some white noise._

_Then a long sigh followed by a wet sniffle._

_“I don’t even know where to start.”_

_She laughed ironically._

_“Where do I start?”_

_There was a soft drumming of fingers on a hard surface._

_“What you are about to hear… you may think I’m crazy, but you are the only one I believe who would have some inclination to how these series of events happened in my life and who was involved in them.”_

_A drawn-out pause._

_“ **What** was involved in them.”_

_She groaned with pain and mumbled something about her back._

_“At this moment, I am on the run from barely making it off Mustafar and left a dear friend behind who sacrificed himself for my escape.”_

_Her tongue clicked followed by another noise filled with discomfort._

_“For this to make sense, taking it from the top should be a sensible way in convincing you of a danger that may send the galaxy into ruins. And it begins with one man.”_

_A shaky exhale. Then a beat of silence where one could feel the measuring of her words and the weight they would carry._

_“My name is Zahri Tefnit. Bioengineer and architect based on Naboo and this is my story.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo. I'm sorry if it sucked lol (it's okay if you hate me).
> 
> Anywho  
> Next chapter is going to be about Zahri and Palpatine. I've started writing it and I'm already crying.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	16. The Beginning

_“Sheev Palpatine was born and raised on Naboo and into a respectable family. He was surrounded by riches and the benefits of being a single child. However, despite his many privileges, he never appreciated any of them. Ever since I’ve known him, he was always searching for something deeper—more. He had these great notions in his head that he was meant for greatness and power to change the galaxy. Little did I know what he meant by those changes._

_I still remember the first time I met him—in my late teens and at the academy for youths where I was giving an elaborate presentation on a dissertation to get me into the most prestigious universities and programs in Theed. Needless to say, no one understood my views, and professors who were there to scout out potential students gave me a unanimous state of blank expressions… except him. Sheev was the only one who stayed and spoke with me afterward about my designs and the partnership between organic and inorganic matter. He was fascinated by my work, mesmerized by a beauty only he saw._

_We became friends and, to my surprise, received a letter of acceptance into Theed University shortly afterward._

_He was always distant from other beings and spoke only to those he deemed somewhat worthy of his time. I was the only person he sought, and I believe we had exchanged more words than he had in a lifetime with his family. Of course, I knew there was a goal in mind, based on the very specific questions he asked about my work and study; specifically, that of longevity._

_Things slowly changed between us when I was introduced to a mu'un from the Banking Clan, Hego Damask. I saw Sheev less often and there was a certain sharpness in his eyes I had never seen before. The divide he put between himself and sentients grew wider until he was the only one who stood above them all as he looked down on them with disgust._

_All except for me. That is… until I introduced him to a man I had been seeing for a standard cycle and which he hadn’t bothered to take notice of since his new age of self-involvement.”_

Zahri extended a hand, a wide grin plastered on her face and a soft giggle she couldn’t contain any longer. Though, the man she presented her status to didn’t share the same sentiments.

Sheev stared at the thick gold band with elaborate enamel inlays of flowers and spirals done by a very fine artist and with tasteful choices of color he knew Zahri enjoyed; those that matched her green plants and blue sky.

He straightened, hands clasped firmly behind his back, and inclined his head with stretched lips meant to show congratulations.

“Is this from the man you have been gallivanting around with for your amusement?”

She dropped her hand with exhaustion and stared at the shorter man, Zahri trying to get a read on the impassive conduct.

“You’re not happy for me.”

Sheev breathed deep and glanced at the ring again before returning with as much modesty he could muster.

“Of course, I am. A momentous occasion for you, I am sure.”

“It certainly is,” she noted the efforts he was making to appear joyful and it was almost painful to watch. “What has you so concerned? Or did you expect my only companions in life to be fauna and flora?”

“And your career, perhaps.”

“Oh, alright. Now I am on the same page as you—your concerns are for the continuation of my work.” Not an awful reason to argue the matrimony but there was a disconcerting aspect to the dead, coldness in his eyes at a deeper objection. “He supports me and will in no way stop me from doing what I love. There is already an understanding for my kinetic lifestyle.”

His demeanor shifted. Sheev unclasped his hands and swung them to his sides, a pretentious smirk marking his fair features, and flitted a glance to her stomach.

“Of course, Zahri. Your betrothed sounds like an excellent match. Why I’m sure not even a child could get in the way of your endeavors.”

Zahri froze, a hand inching at her abdomen and afflicted with a disquiet that pressed against her chest.

“How do you know I’m with child?”

A slight shrug of indifference followed by a smack of his lips, Sheev was thrilled to explain.

“Marrying a man you’ve only known a short time and your… disingenuous feelings for him can only point to one conclusion.”

The pressure on her chest exploded out of her mouth, “Disingenuous? Short time? What would you know? You’ve never met him. In fact, you have refused to set your eyes on him ever since I mentioned him to you!”

Sheev inhaled her anger. Her frustrations. Like feeding fire with oil he delighted in the inner turmoil of his truths and her doubts.

And she saw it. She knew what he was doing and played his game.

“You’re right,” her breaths slowed and leveled with him. “I’m not in love with him but he’s a good man and the father of my child. What I will have is stability and a future I’ve always wanted; raising a family of my own.”

The arrogance slipped right out of him and was replaced by his own frustrations.

“A family?”

“Yes, Sheev. Unlike you, I’m not married to my career. I do want a life outside of it.”

There was an odd tick in how he turned away—pensive and withdrawn into his own thoughts.

“I see.”

“You see?” Zahri scoffed. “Alright. I’m relieved we reached an understanding for the decisions in _my_ life.”

“Yes. I understand now,” he faced her with a wide grin this time; genuine and real and off-putting. “You have my congratulations.” After a look at his chronometer, he closed the discussion entirely, “I really must be going. I will be seeing you same time next week?”

The rather _human_ quality he was evoking was far from normal. It was surreal. The image raising goosebumps on her skin and a cold sweat forming on her back.

“Y-yes.”

“Until then, Zahri.”

His robes billowed behind him as he walked off in the twilight hours of the day and under luminous, orange lamps that hung high above the bridge and its path.

Zahri collapsed against the railing and stared out onto the smooth waters carrying ferries down the river and lake.

Everything about him felt wrong. But what was there to be worried about? Nothing in her personal life involved him nor was there any way for him to talk her out of marriage. It was decided, down to the surmountable amount of credits she made, and wanted it to be used for a life of her own choosing.

And she will have it.

_“Maybe a few months after my conversation with Sheev, the accident happened._

_My husband and I were on our way to… I forget now. It was so long ago. But we were traveling by landspeeder when a herd of falumpasets came our way and crashed into us. Not only did I lose Hadar but my unborn child that day._

_Cajsa Vos, a good friend, was the only skeptical one about what transpired. She didn’t understand where the herd came from and what alarmed a perfectly docile species to run straight into a moving vehicle. It was not completely unheard of when traveling in the country, but she was steadfast in her theory._

_Of course, I didn’t believe her at the time. Or, I didn’t want to so I could avoid having to revisit the greatest loss in my life. But she had been right all along… The accident was no coincidence. It was carefully orchestrated for me as the only survivor and left me beaten, alone, and angry. Perfect ingredients for a recipe to be taken advantage of._

_While I was annoyed with Cajsa’s persistence and tired of everyone’s sympathies, Sheev was the only one who made attempts to pull me out of my grief. It was the kindest he’s ever been to me and I fell into it. Not every moment was genuine—I knew that—for he was incapable of personifying common, sentient emotions unless forced to, but to be treated as a person and not something fragile was the remedy I needed._

_Then one day, he made a strange and tempting proposition to me. One I accepted without question.”_

“What do you mean you know how to ‘give me what I want’?”

Zahri sat across from Sheev at a table fit for two in her cozy apartment, lit with a natural warmth and decorated in organic greenery not even the darkest soul could taint.

Sheev set down his cup of tea with a clink against the saucer and folded his hands over a knee.

“Do you still wish for a family?”

She hadn’t expected the question, nor given herself the opportunity to consider it.

“I don’t know.”

“What if I knew a way?” he smoothed a crinkle on his long, deep purple sleeve. “An easy way?”

“Sheev, what in the worlds are you talking about?”

For the first time in the many years she’s known him, Zahri saw a slight crinkle between his eyebrows from some inner turmoil. She shifted in her seat with discomfort at the new expression, unsure of what to make of it.

“I do not believe we have ever discussed this topic,” he began, coming to a resolution. “But what are your views on the Force?”

“The… Force?”

“Yes. What the Jedi believe in, for example.”

“I know what it is only—what do my beliefs have to do with anything?”

“If you are to trust me, it has to do with everything. Do you trust me, Zahri?”

Whatever compelled her that day besides any other day to not question any motives, she couldn’t say, because at that moment she would have given all she had to take whatever Sheev had to offer—a chance to start anew.

And like striking a vow, she sealed her fate in his hands.

“I do.”

_“He explained the Force to me in a way that was almost impossible to understand. I had never struck him as a religious sort but the knowledge he had for it could almost be compared to that of a Jedi. Which is why this message is meant for you and the Order. There were things said to me I still don’t understand now but his faith in it was so strong and… alive I believed every word of it. That this great body of consciousness that connects the ebb of life and time within the galaxy could also make life inside me._

_Sheev didn’t state it plainly then nor did I catch the implications, but he too has abilities like a Jedi and he planned on using these gifts to give me what I desired most: a child._

_There were objects he needed before we could proceed and asked to give him time. Naturally, I gave him all the time in the world and spent those short years traveling and expanding my horizons with different cultures and their connections to their planet; as if trying to understand the Force in the only means I could since it was going to be very likely my child would be connected to it in some special way and brought into the galaxy by special means.”_

Sheev craned his neck at the makeshift ceiling and walls that made up the hut built by the woman who flitted about to create space for them to occupy; the flooring littered with dead leaves, various articles of clothing, and holodevices. He put a hand to the structure and could feel life pumping through it despite some of its elements being constructed from minerals. There were also the classic markings of her artist’s signature swirling with vines on the soft metal floor and automatic doors.

There was a moment he observed a second too long the way she moved about; a bit frazzled at the state of the place but the long skirt which whirled around her legs created another image of grace. He sucked in a deep breath and held it in, freezing the blood in his veins to alleviate the subtle increase in heart rate.

“It’s a work in progress,” she explained. “This is also where I experiment a bit on some of my work. You’re the first to know of its existence.”

Zahri motioned for him to sit on the dusty floor, which he did without concern for his costly robes.

She knelt across from him and pointed to a subtle detail only she was capable of finding, “You look as if you were going into meditation.”

“In part, that is what I am doing.”

“You meditate? Since when?”

“To bring me focus.”

“Out of your many faults, focus is certainly not one of them. The opposite, actually.”

As much he would like to venture into his habitual training methods, the conversation would prove moot to someone who had less than a basic understanding of the Force. Instead, Sheev ventured to her optimistic temperament since returning to Naboo. Her emotions swirled with light airs and a brightness she had not carried since the loss of her husband and unborn child.

“I see your trip to Devaron has been a fruitful venture.”

She shied a bit as if he had charged her with an accusation and avoided eye contact while smoothing her wrinkleless skirt.

“It was good. Fun and… illuminating.”

There was a different quality about her. Nothing like with her past husband nor when she was core deep into her work, and it strangled his insides with a flame he had learned to control when in public. Sheev made the usual slip when around Zahri, being in acquaintance with someone who was average and made no threats to his status had its benefits when he wasn’t around his master or inferior sentients. But this time he masked the constriction in his chest with a disingenuous grin and added nothing more.

“What are those?” Zahri stretched her fingers to the two items he placed between them, giving them a timid touch to their strange material and glow.

“Holocrons,” he stated simply. “A Jedi,” he pointed to the blue one, its corners twisted into a hexagonal shape. “And… Sith.”

“Sith?”

“An art form that heavily branches from the Jedi and not often practiced.”

“I see,” she paused, taking the objects in and feeling as if she was caught in some prohibited act. “How did you get these?”

“Patience. Determination. A bit of deception and twisting of words.”

She made an incredulous rise of the eyebrows, “You acquired these items through politics?”

He settled quietly in his spot, the grin he had kept up transforming into one of a fond memory filled with pain and torture and the frantic screams of a young padawan.

“Of course.”

“Hm,” Zahri leaned back, knowing there was more to what he said only she wasn’t sure what questions to ask for answers that may not exist.

Then Sheev stretched his fingers to levitate the objects into the air, removing their locks to brighten their cores and illuminating the room in red and blue.

Zahri’s jaw went slack, the surprise not stemming from any shock that Sheev was Force-sensitive, but how he was able to hide it so well from everyone.

“All this time I knew you were different and now I know why. But,” she wondered, “why aren’t you with the Order?”

“The galaxy is a large place filled with potential Force users and by the Force's will I was one of the millions who were never sought out by the Jedi."

“How did you train? I mean,” Zahri thought fast to cover the tiny slip, “on Devaron there is a Jedi temple and heard things from the locals about how they send their padawans there to train sometimes.”

Thankfully, he noticed nothing strange about the question but did turn pensive.

Blue eyes shot in her direction and she was struck still at their severity, and his voice dropped to an insidious growl, “You must not speak of anything that has transpired here. Not only will our lives be at stake but the child’s as well. Do you understand?”

Zahri understood her instincts were correct, what they were doing was borderline criminal. Maybe not in the constitutional sort of sense but in a religious way. That what was bound to happen could be viewed as sacrilegious to a Jedi and their ways.

But she was not a Jedi and had little belief in the Force and its purpose. None of it mattered. Not even Sheev.

“Not a soul will know.”

But the souls of trillions who have passed and become one with the Force witnessed what had transpired with heavy sorrow.

The holocrons rose closer together, their cores brightening to hot white light that blinded.

Sheev gritted against the pressures of knowledge being combined, doubting his prowess for once and his master’s warnings about his overconfidence. The mu'un’s face spurred him in a heat of rage and his impatience to one day destroy the master and acquire an apprentice as powerful as he fueled him to not relent and press on with every ounce of energy. He will find answers for the perfect being. The perfect learner. The perfect disciple. And the cycle of Siths will end with him as the ultimate being who could surpass any mortal and become divine.

“Sheev!” Zahri called in the loud convergence like a thousand crystals being cracked under enormous pressure. “I think we should stop!”

It wasn’t the unnatural crackling in the air or Sheev’s persistence or being blinded by the light, it was what she was hearing in her thoughts. Soft murmurs tickled her ears and slowly escalated into a horrifying cacophony of whispers. Covering her ears did nothing to drown but had the opposite effect for they were louder in her head.

“Sheev!”

He ignored her calls, refusing to be an underling to someone who he was superior to and take control of the galaxy by his own means.

Unable to sustain her sanity any longer, Zahri reached to separate the holocrons and screamed.

_“I don’t remember what happened after. What memories I awoke to felt like faded footprints on a beach. Something happened, I spoke to someone, but the conversation escaped me. And what I felt from it was… fear and joy and anxiety all at once. Without my knowing, tears were streaming down my face and I couldn’t understand why._

_Sheev was beside himself in rage. Stomping and kicking at holocron shards. That was the first time I had seen him so angry, yet the sudden outburst suited him as if she were witnessing what resided behind the mask of pleasantries._

_When I asked what had happened, to fill in any gaps in my memory, he turned into a man I did not recognize. A flash of gold lit his blue eyes and pointed at me, then the pieces of blue and red on the ground: “You did this,” he hissed at me._

_He saw the whole ordeal as a momentous failure and hardly spoke to me since then. Until I commed him about the greatest miracle._

_I was pregnant.”_

“I am… very confused.”

Mr. Vos scratched his head. Rubbed his face and temples. Held his chin in deep contemplation. But nothing was making a connection.

“Stop staring, dear. It’s impolite,” Cajsa patted her husband’s chest then crossed her arms. “But I am also confused,” she stared at the subtle growth on Zahri’s stomach.

Sitting on the far corner of the couch, swirling his drink with a meek muteness, was Soter Baelop sighing to himself.

“Let us go over this once more,” Mr. Vos set his cup on the centerpiece table and reclined into the armchair, staring at the ceiling designed with Zahri’s signature markings and an obvious declaration of her being the sunroom’s architect. “There were no donors. You didn’t go to a bank and select a sperm. And you didn’t… you haven’t… You sure haven’t?”

“Sex, Vos. That’s the word you were looking for.” Cajsa took the conversation by the reigns and steered it to her suspicions, “And this isn’t a love child between you and Sheev?”

Soter choked on his drink, smacking his chest to clear the air passages while everyone stared on in silence. Zahri with a note of worry, but Cajsa and Vos shared an eye roll.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes. Swallowed it the wrong way is all,” Soter waved at Zahri to remain seated on her end of the couch, wanting to keep the space between them.

“Well?” Cajsa pressed, not hiding her displeasure at the thought.

But Zahri wasn’t the least bothered by the question, since it was not the first time Cajsa was bold enough to bring up the complicated relationship she had with Sheev.

“You know the answer to that already,” she sighed. “It is purely platonic.”

However unconvinced she was, Cajsa dropped it but the problem remained at hand.

“Then explain,” she motioned at Zahri’s stomach in a circular motion, “this.”

“I… can’t,” Zahri flinched under Cajsa’s notorious glower when she practically turns into an umbaran, marbled statue with unmoving eyes. “All I can say is that it was a gift from the Force.”

While Vos and Cajsa exclaimed their bafflement, Soter’s melancholy made a sudden switch to intrigue and a hint of unease in his twitching mouth.

“Since when were you religious?” Cajsa was more upset than surprised, thinking Zahri was throwing excuses at her.

“I’m not. Until now, I suppose.”

“She supposes,” Cajsa sat at her husband’s armrest and slapped his hand away when he pointed at the empty chair directly beside him. “Do you know how crazy you sound? Why can’t you just admit you’ve been knocked up again and decided to marry the unfortunate fellow? As they say, history repeats itself.”

Zahri smacked her drink with a loud clank against the table’s surface, ignoring Mr. Vos’ muttering about being delicate with his things.

“I didn’t come here to be lectured about the choices I have made or be treated with skepticism or be interrogated about my personal relations. Why does it matter? In the end, I’m getting what I’ve always wanted but this time it’s mine and mine alone. A child made of my blood and no one else’s.” She rubbed her lower abdomen, a delicate smile illuminating the room, “Nothing will tear us apart.”

She dropped her arm and stood tall amongst the seated crowd, her resolve unwavering and foundation firm.

Soter stumbled when he set his drink aside to follow after Zahri before she made her way off the estate grounds.

“Zahri,” he lightly tugged on an arm to steer away her honed focus on escaping and gasped at the tears.

“I’m sorry, Soter,” she wiped at her face. “Do you need something?”

He fumbled for words and was consistent with second-guessing himself to maybe take a hand into his or give a friendly tap on the shoulder. In the end, he settled with just keeping his arms at his sides.

“Don’t pay too much mind with what Cajsa said. She is worried for you as I am—I mean as we all are.”

“Thank you,” she sniffed. “I know she means well. Just sometimes her words can sting a little.”

“My usual salve for those wounds is to tune her out. She talks an awful lot sometimes.”

Zahri huffed a light giggle, “You’re right. I will speak to her again tomorrow perhaps. Give us both time to think things over.”

They stood in silence, Soter a little awkward with what else to say and tongue-tied at the pleasant smile she wore whilst staring at him expectedly. When it seemed there was nothing else to be said, Zahri began her goodbyes but was immediately cut off.

“Tell me more about how the Force was involved.”

“Oh. Um,” Zahri blinked with discomfort, the pressures of Sheev’s threat looming over her. “You know… pray hard enough and the unexpected can happen. That’s how it works?”

Soter blinked his bulbous eyes, the galaxy shimmering in their onyx depths with some troubled understanding.

“Not exactly.”

“Ah,” she winced and shuffled her feet with embarrassment. “Slips my mind you have interest in the Force and the likes.”

“Sheev is quite knowledgeable in the matter, is he not?”

Zahri froze and wondered if his eyes truly held the universe’s secrets like how so many other species seemed to believe.

“You’ve spoken to him about it.”

“On several occasions. The conversations were more of a beat down on my ‘simplistic and narrow views’ as he would say, than actual discussions though.”

“And?” she drawled. “What are your thoughts?”

“Well, I suppose it’s good knowledge to have when you are reaching to become Supreme Chancellor since the position comes with associating with the Jedi Order.”

She chuckled out her wound up nerves, “Yes, of course.”

“The Force is a mystery, even to the Jedi I would like to think,” Soter explained with a profound sense of fascination. “It’s a shame they keep many of its secrets to themselves. For what reason, I can’t imagine but I suppose we should trust their judgment for what does a non-Force-sensitive being like myself know?”

“So… You believe me, then?”

“To a certain extent, I would say, yes. I think I do.”

Relief swelled in her chest. Zahri wasn’t alone and had someone she could confide in. Soter had always been a caring and giving friend and not once had they reached a disagreement that upset each other. Their temperaments were similar, although his was much more reserved except when it came to his duties as a Count and businessperson—his negotiation skills a full tier higher than most of his peers. However, he had become more than a friend but an ally, and a being she could trust.

Zahri brought him into an embrace, not noticing the deeper shade of blue creeping up Soter’s neck and to his face.

“Thank you, Soter.”

Not wanting to overstimulate his heart, which was about ready to implode, Soter simply placed a tentative hand on her back and took in the rare experience of having her near. Then he was stricken with shock and appalled at himself for not mentioning it sooner.

Soter pulled back and looked squarely into the brown warmth that illuminated her skin and sparkled in her eyes.

“Congratulations!”

The wide grin she gave was one he would never forget until his final days.

_“Months passed and I remained in Naboo, being doted on my Cajsa and Soter, both of who were worried about another ‘unplanned’ accident occurring. Strangely, I felt a sense of calm; my instincts telling me the birth was going to happen and I was finally having a child of my own._

_You must understand… I was not raised in a proper home. I do not remember my birth parents and was passed along the system from household to household until I finally settled with one wealthy family. They provided me with good education and was included in their will to take over their estate and name, but I did not wish to run their business. My sights were set on the arts and by the time I entered university, they disowned me._

_Sheev was the one who assisted in my school expenses until I was able to prove my academic prowess to the administration and was offered full compensation. I wouldn’t have been where I was if not for him… And it was those small acts of kindness I considered genuine which blinded me to his true nature and disregarded the warnings of those who cared for me more than he did.”_

“Where is that child?”

Cajsa roamed the estate’s massive halls and dozens of rooms, half of which had never been used but each decorated with care down to the single stitch that embroidered the carpets. Her husband’s doing, of course. He did not make the arrangements himself, that was Zahri’s doing, but he had an obsessive penchant for buying ancient items or heirlooms riddled with history. The man was probably a better historian than those who made a career out of it. His worldly mind was what attracted her to him in the first place so she shouldn’t really complain about the excessive number of furnishings.

The echo of footsteps was what made her turn a corner to find her beloved stepping in a quick pace.

“Dear! Where are you going?”

“I have a meeting with Sheev and Magister Damask. Something about a facility or other they want to be built on a… molten planet. A bit garish.”

She expressed her disdain at the mere mention of the names with a sneer, “I’m looking for Eezula.”

Mr. Vos contemplated a moment then snapped his fingers, “Last I saw her was in my study. She asked if she could comm some of her friends.”

“I hope it isn’t that falleen girl.”

“Why not? I like her. A bit rough and maybe too much profanity for someone her age but—”

“Please, husband. That girl’s parents are definitely associated with the Black Suns.”

Mr. Vos gasped loudly, “No!”

Already seeing the panic in his eyes, Cajsa withheld a sigh and held his face in her hands, “Nothing to worry about. I am sure their relationship has nothing to do with the parents, but the poor influence is there, and I will not have my daughter be exposed to those sorts of things.” She meant to give a short kiss, but they wrapped themselves in the moment, going deeper and getting heated.

“My dear,” he spoke between kisses. “I really ought to return to the meeting.”

Cajsa ran her lips across his cheek and to his ear, “Later then.”

“Definitely,” Mr. Vos cleared his throat and nearly slipped on his way over to where he was needed.

Backtracking to where Cajsa hoped her daughter was, several voices were heard from the study and picked up her pace.

“Eezula, what are you doing?”

No more than eight years of age, Eezula swung her dangling legs from her father’s chair with her pale face resting in small hands, listening to a conversation through a comm.

“Are you touching things you shouldn’t be again? I don’t know why he keeps letting you in here. You have an expensive comm unit in your room,” she made her way over ready to punch the audio off when a voice she recognized spoke through.

“ **We do need to mention a location to have an idea of the facility’s foundations** ,” Sheev spoke through. “ **Otherwise it could collapse if he does not know the bedrock type in which it is being built into**.”

The second voice which followed raised goosebumps on Cajsa’s skin. There was no doubt of a great intelligence that spoke in a fluid tone, but a threat always hung at the end of every word. There was no doubt it belonged to Magister Damask of the Banking Clan.

“ **Is this man a friend of yours**?”

“ **Hardly**.”

Damask hummed with understanding, “ **He considers you one**.”

“ **Vos is a vivacious fool. His only brilliance lies in his craftsmanship**.”

“Wow. That was rude.”

Cajsa forgot about Eezula and shooed her away quickly, “Go play with your brother.”

“He’s one year old. What am I supposed to do with that?” she scoffed, implying the stupidity of the question which earned a stiff and chilling glower from her mother. “I’m going to report to Daddy what they’re saying about him!” she covered her mistake quickly.

“Trust me, young lady, your father knows exactly how Sheev feels about him and it doesn’t bother him in the least.”

“Really?” her small nose scrunched up. “That’s silly. If my friend talked behind my back like this I’d clobber ‘em.”

“But he’s one of his best clients so Daddy needs to place nice.”

Eezula stopped at the doorway and considered her mother’s words with open confusion, “Huh?”

“Go, Eezula,” Cajsa pressed. “I’ll see you there with Dryden.”

“ **You are getting awfully close to this circle of sentients** ,” Damask rumbled low. “ **Be mindful of yourself and remember who you are loyal to. Especially with the human female you are so enamored with.** ”

“ **There is nothing between us, Master** ,” Sheev seethed behind clenched teeth.

Cajsa had never heard Sheev angry before. He was always a weasel in lavish clothing with plastic grins and false decorum to her. Not once had he ever given her a moment to like him or even trust him, and this was the first time she felt it was the true Sheev speaking out the comm.

“ **If there are no attachments to her then why kill the husband and fetus?** ”

The room turned cold. Cajsa felt nothing from her fingers down to her toes except the fury rising from her stomach and to the chest. Her porcelain features broke with a snarl and she had never wanted to kill someone so badly as she did then.

“ **They passed in an accident. I had nothing to do with it** ,” was his cool response.

But Cajsa knew that tone. She can perfectly match it to the face he usually made whenever she would catch him in a lie. That calm collectiveness to cover the raging screams she was sure was tucked beneath the mask. And she wasn’t the only one who saw through the pretense.

“ **I am warning you, Sheev** ,” Damask shattered the illusions of a composed individual and unleashed someone truly terrifying. “ **This is a path I advise you not to follow. There will be dire consequences at the end of it and not all of it will be from me**. **And do not think I haven't noticed the missing holocrons either.** ”

“ **Hello, gentlemen!** ”

When Mr. Vos entered the conversation, she shut the comm off and swirled out of the study. In the back of her mind, she had to remind herself to check every comm unit and device were not interconnected, specifically to her and her husband’s bedroom.

“ _I didn’t believe her. I **couldn’t** believe it. In the screaming, the crying, the begging, Cajsa made a promise she would return with proof that Sheev wasn’t who he appeared to be. _

_But she never did._

_The female who left my apartment that day, I never saw again._ ”

In a veranda of a discreet and upscale restaurant that overlooked Naboo’s open country, Zahri rubbed her round stomach—nine months in and ready to burst. The excitement to meet her child for the first time shone in every smile and laugh while she spoke to the two males who sat before her.

Abbas Daleel, a humble human male with a full, dark beard, hooked nose, and tawny skin spoke with the same enthusiasm Soter did whenever the Force and its mysticisms were involved.

“It’s truly a shame we are kept in the dark of how this universe functions in a living or cosmic level,” he leaned back and placed his hands over his heavy stomach. “There are many cultures throughout the galaxy whose religions are centered around it and call the Force by different names, but none have the fundamental knowledge the Jedi have. What they have stored in their archives are records that could date back as far as before the Old Republic era. Data written by cultivated sentients and not tribal beings.”

“Some of their records can still be deciphered as accurate,” Soter countered. “Maybe they are the ones who have it right and not the Order.”

“Perhaps,” Abbas shrugged in agreement. “The galaxy is very old. The answers to its many secrets must lie in the entity which binds it.”

“Why do you think most of what the Jedi know are withheld from the public?” Zahri rubbed the lower part of her stomach, feeling some small kicks. “I admit, I was definitely one of those billions of beings who didn’t even know what their purpose was until I met one on Devaron. That they are not soldiers and are the opposite of political despite serving the Republic. They are a strange and private sort of people,” she recalled what she felt from the man she spoke with months ago—how there was an invisible connection between him and the world around him. A world she could not see or feel, only understand through science and technology. “Compassionate and kind, however. Maybe even loving, but not the selfish kind we know. So, it makes no sense to hide what they know and not share it.”

“That's a good point,” Soter agreed. “Anything pertaining to their past in the older eras has been dashed from historical records we use. A time non-Force-sensitive beings must have been involved in, yet the tales of those events diluted in the thousands of years which passed.”

Abbas tapped a contemplative finger on a hand, “I have a theory. Or in part.”

Soter chuckled, “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

“The Jedi have an alternate. A group whose practices differed from the humble beings who reside in Coruscant. Their accounts are considered urban legends, of course, but it is the only reason I can think of. I suppose you can call them the Jedi’s mortal enemies and the secrets they keep are to prevent these so-called zealots from knowing any more than they should.”

“Who would have thought the Jedi have their own internal politics to deal with.”

“Most institutions do. Not even a group of peacekeepers can avoid it.”

“What were they called?” Zahri asked with a cup raised to her lips but didn’t take a sip out of. She stared down at the rippling, gold liquid that swirled with blue petals from Naboo’s asteri chrysanthemum and had realized it was her shaking hand creating the waves. “Did they have a name?”

“They were referred to as the Sith, I think?” Abbas released the name with indifference, the importance in its meaning held in little regard as one would find in a book of fables for children.

The Sith holocron brightened before Zahri’s vision, an object not from mere legends. But something real and Sheev knew exactly what it was.

A blinking commlink dissipated the reverie, bringing everyone’s attention to Soter.

“Vos?” Soter answered the device on his wrist.

“ **Soter**!” he panted. “ **Something—something’s wrong with Cajsa. I don’t know… I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s not herself. She can’t remember a thing**.”

The panic seeped out and gripped the throats of everyone who was listening, for anyone who knew Vos would find the state he’s in as highly irregular.

“What do you mean?”

The panic rose into a hysteria of sobs that rose the party out of their seats, ready to flee to his side.

“ **Eezula came crying to me with a bruise on her face and—and Dryden was—I found her trying to feed Dryden pieces of broken shards.** ”

“We’ll be right there.” Soter threw down credit chips on the table and maneuvered his way to the exit, “We can take my speeder. Zahri, come on.”

Zahri rubbed continuous motions over her stomach to soothe the escalating distress that was clamping down on her chest. Her mind was making connections—connections she refused to accept. It was wrong. It didn’t make any sense. It couldn’t be possible.

Sheev wasn’t a Jedi, but he was something else.

In her hands, she held her entire existence and the sacrifices made to make it happen.

“ _When we got to their estate, Cajsa no longer existed. The fearless female who could dance around moguls and crime families with her sharp tongue and brilliant tactics, and who had the gift to replicate the people and places she loved onto a canvas with gorgeous artistry… was gone. What lived with Vos and his children was a husk. The strength in her pale eyes dimmed to an opaque void that resembled very closely to death. But what shattered my heart was the child growing in her stomach and how she would never experience the joy of welcoming it to the galaxy._

 _That was when I decided to confront Sheev once and for all. However, he had disappeared from Naboo without any way of knowing how to contact him but there was one being I knew who would know of his whereabouts_.” 

Zahri wrung her hands to massage the quaking tension in their muscles. She had never spoken to him alone before, or much at all for that matter. The length of their interactions consisted of pleasant greetings or farewells and always with Sheev’s company. There was a drop in her stomach that she may be doing something extremely dangerous when there was absolutely no reason to, for the mu'un was as well-mannered and cultured as they came.

Stars, she hoped.

The bipedal droid beside her finally stopped the lift after a very long minute of ascension and awaited at the open door.

“We have arrived at Magister’s offices, Madame Tefnit.”

She took one small step out in the high, bleak walls and under the harsh shadows from the ceiling’s vaulted ribs. The area was lit with dark and dim gold, adhering to the strict circular and triangular patterns of his clan’s culture. Of course, Zahri was familiar with their orderly designs and rigid architecture and it wasn’t one she was overly fond of.

“Right this way, Madame,” the droid known as FourDee guided her down the wide halls—far too much space for a being who lived alone. Or was it she felt insignificant at the massive scope and darkness of the place? It was as if her light had been blown in a single puff.

 _I’m not alone_ , she reminded herself as she put a hand on her stomach. _Not alone_.

There was still yet a light that could never be extinguished.

“Welcome, Miss Tefnit,” the voice rang clearly in the air and gripped her throat in an instant. “Come. Sit.”

Zahri was rather tall for a human female, her height somewhere at 1.9 meters, but Hego Damask II surpassed his own species’ average height and towered over her at a whopping 2.5 meters. His long, bone-thin arm made a slow gesture toward a seat meant for species of her height range.

“Thank you,” she managed to playout her manners and not cause any unnecessary offense.

“Refreshment perhaps?” he motioned a prolonged finger to a casing with glistening crystals filled with an assortment of alcohol.

“Oh. No, thank you. I cannot—”

“Magister,” FourDee interrupted with refined politeness he was programmed with. “Human females cannot consume alcohol in the stages of pregnancy. The consumption can be fatal to the child.”

“Ah,” if Damask was embarrassed by the fact, he did not show it, rather the information had the opposite and alarming effect. “Another fragile, human quality.”

He did not offer anything else and had his droid pour a crystal cup for him.

Zahri then knew she was not liked by the mu'un, but a major inconvenience.

She did not let go of her stomach for a second, finding the strength she needed to make things right. If they could ever be set right.

“I was wondering if you, perhaps, knew where Sheev is. He hasn’t answered any of my transmissions and it’s urgent I speak to him.”

He swirled the drink, eyes glowing brightly as he caught her in a frigid stare, “A mere transmission could have sufficed for this conversation.”

“I tried to,” Zahri couldn’t swallow down the lump in her throat. _Something is off_. “But I recalled Sheev making a point to me one time how you prefer confrontation.”

The crystal was set down after taking a small sip and Damask eased back into his wide chair, swallowing her whole.

“You have questions about Sheev.”

“I don’t mean to take up any more of your time—”

“But you already have,” Damask sliced at her quick. “So, please. What answers may I provide?”

Her breaths were getting deep. Zahri couldn’t describe what it was she felt but the closest comparison was a beast lying in wait to take its meal or let it go free. And she was the prey to this creature.

“What does Sheev want from me?”

Damask’s fingers folded before his long face like the legs of a spider, “That is a very good question. You must have your own opinion on it.” He gestured for her to continue, “Share.”

“For as long I have known him, Sheev was always engrossed in my work, specifically the creation of synthetic life. To recreate a sentient being, possibly, which isn’t typically in my field of study… What I want is to implement life in how we live, not create it.”

His fixed gaze had a piercing intensity that could possibly tear anyone to shreds. Zahri swallowed thickly and rehearsed apologies in her head if she had said anything out of turn.

“Immortality,” there was a cruel edge in his voice, “is what he seeks.”

“That is--,” Zahri’s face crumpled in confusion. “That is impossible. There’s expanding one’s lifespan a bit, but immortality is a completely different matter.”

“But, can it be achieved?”

The topic wasn’t what silenced her in disbelief, Zahri gathered a sense of urgency in Damask and his obvious intrigue for something proven quite impossible to achieve.

“Not unless we can transfer our consciousness to a synthetic host, but we are not droids are we?”

The gold eyes narrowed in suspicion, then Damask dropped his arms along with the hostility.

“So, it was you who jumpstarted the project.”

“What project?”

“The clone project.”

“I…,” Zahri blinked fast. “You misunderstand, Magister. I scrapped the project entirely because it was immoral. It hasn’t gotten beyond my workstation or met the public eye.”

“But you shared your work with Sheev, did you not?”

Outright denial was what she wanted to express but the words were caught in the back of her throat, choked by a truth she did not wish to acknowledge.

The Sith holocron blinded her vision again. Persisting. Begging her to remove the blindfold Sheev had wrapped around her eyes for so many years.

_The Jedi have an alternate… the Jedi’s mortal enemies._

“So,” Damask rose, each second it took for him to stand straight seemed he was growing taller, filling the area with his thin form, “Miss Tefnit, what do you plan on doing when you confront him?”

Zahri made an instinctive motion of blocking her stomach from Damask’s view when a threat pressed on her. A shiver ran up her body and raised the hairs on her skin at death’s cold stroke along the length of her spine. Whatever she chose to say next could save or end her.

“What any sensible woman should do when they have been cheated by a man. End things.”

“Then I hope, for you and your child’s sake, it will remain that way afterward.”

It wasn’t a threat, Zahri knew as she stood in the Magister’s encompassing shadow, but a promise.

“I understand, Magister Damask.”

The silence was as sharp as knives. When Damask quirked his mouth, she flinched at the sudden movement.

“He is on Mustafar. FourDee will send you the coordinates.”

She made a slight bow of her head and dipped out of the room, FourDee following close behind.

Her panting breaths echoed in the lift and stuffed her ears, and for a moment she swore she heard two heartbeats instead of one—the lives she had saved.

“I must say,” the droid’s placid tone clashed against Zahri’s panic, “I did not expect Magister to be so taken with you.”

“Taken?” she could hardly believe the word she uttered.

“Yes. I had expected to drag your corpse out of the room but instead, I am leading you safely out of his premises.”

She could taste her lunch rising to her throat and covered her mouth, gagging back a cry. Without her needing to ask why she was spared, FourDee continued.

“It seems Magister wishes to implement a lesson in his student.”

Zahri’s hand dragged down her lip, her arm growing limp from the blood frozen in her veins.

“Here we are! Thank you for visiting us today, Madame Tefnit. We hope to never see you again.”

Waiting in the speeder outside, fingers drumming against the wheel from the nerves running amok under his skin, Soter leaped out of the hoodless vehicle upon Zahri’s exit.

Before anything passed between them, she stepped off to the side and vomited her lunch into a potted plant, wheezing the air back into her lungs.

Soter removed a handkerchief from a pocket which Zahri mumbled a thanks to and wiped at her mouth. He gently led her to the speeder and was relieved to be as far away from the Magister as she possibly could.

“What happened?” Soter noticed the darker circles under her eyes from the moistened skin.

Her friendship. Her trust. Her love. All for a man who was underserving of it and had taken everything and yet given her everything. Then the child who would soon be born into the world and the intentions Sheev had in assisting her with the miracle. Whatever the price she needed to pay, it felt as though she was now paying in full. But it was too severe.

“What is a Sith? What does it mean to be one?”

“I haven’t a clue. Maybe the opposite of what the Jedi represent?”

“Chaos,” for that was exactly what was happening.

“Zahri, what do you know? What does any of this have to do with Sheev?”

Soter held his breath at the face of defeat. Zahri stared on with a dead muteness with tears streaking down her cheeks, the feeling not much different than the day when she lost her husband and child.

"I fear Cajsa may have discovered something and suffered the consequences.”

“You’re not saying,” he stuttered a laugh, “Sheev is a Sith?”

Zahri's lips trembled to hold back the cries caught in the back of her throat and whimpered, "I don't know." She held her head up with a hand on her forehead, breaking free more tears that refused to be held back. "I don't know."

Soter glanced at her stomach and wondered at the oddities which surrounded Zahri since the loss of her first unborn.

“Tell me everything without shortcuts and edits of the facts. You know I will do everything in my power to help you and the child.”

“I can’t risk putting you in danger. Not after what happened to Cajsa and if she was right about—if what she told me about Hadar and the accident was true,” Zahri sucked in a wet sob, unable to find the divide between the truths and lies.

“Please,” Soter begged. “Allow me to do this for you. I can’t bear seeing you like this…”

For the first time, Zahri felt his care and love that surpassed the meaning of friendship. Even more of a reason to not accept his help for she was undeserving of what he offered and how she could not meet his desires.

“Soter—"

“I know, Zahri,” the pained acceptance in his pursed lips drove a hole in her heart. “And it doesn’t matter to me. Only your happiness.”

There was no disputing him and he was right. She needed help nor did she have the strength to face Sheev on her own.

“Alright. I’ll tell you what I know.”

“ _My life would never be the same after what transpired on Mustafar. It ended… then began. And who knows what tomorrow may bring?_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more of Zahri and Palps in the next chapter (plus a surprise cameo or... cameos?) then we can finally get back to our fave duo.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	17. The Choice

_“Soter needn’t have insisted to come with me. I knew I needed him. Someone who supported me and not leave me to face Sheev’s wrath alone._

_I was terrified… but I owed it to Cajsa, her children, Vos, and my husband to face my mistakes. To runaway would mean ignoring their losses and my own. And I wasn’t going to be blinded from the truth any longer._

_What Damask’s droid told me kept spinning in my head. How there was a lesson Sheev needed to learn, meaning something expected or unexpected would unfold. I’m still uncertain whether what transpired was what the Magister intended but the two held a certain dislike for the other, that much was clear. A strange relationship to be sure, but I know nothing of what it means to be an apprentice to a Sith._

_Even after everything that happened. What my loved ones have suffered because of my choices—because of who I trusted—I still cannot say if the Sith is an equivalence to evil or… loss and loneliness.”_

Mustafar was scorching, and the air had a layer of heat that was difficult to breathe. The taste of ash was constant on Zahri’s lips, even under the protection of the compound’s energy shields to block the toxic fumes.

“This place is Vos’ project with Sheev,” Soter explained. “Was.”

“Stay here with the ship.”

“No!” he put himself between her and the compound. “If what you told me is true, then Sheev is a danger we have no way of protecting ourselves from.”

“I have to face him alone,” Zahri clutched the folds of her dress that draped over her round stomach. “Only I can face my errors.”

“Don’t blame yourself. We’re all at fault.”

She shook her head, her throat tight to keep from releasing a sob, “You trusted him because I did. There is no covering up that fact.” Zahri rested a hand on his shoulder and swept past him, “It’ll be alright.”

Soter bought the confidence and let her slip into the jaws of a hunter, neither capable of imagining what lied in store for her.

The complex was mostly complete and the concept standard. Not much different than a starship’s interior, its components were a hard shell of steel and many computers to function the facility’s exterior to keep from sinking into the magma river beneath or consumed by volcanic eruptions.

It was also eerily empty, contractions in the steel and various light chirrups from operating systems scattered about were what filled the silence. Not even the customary swoosh of an automatic door or a droid’s movements resounded the dead corridors.

When she reached a skybridge encased in a tube of transparisteel, the lava flowing and spitting fountains of magma reflecting a bright, molten glow across the walkway, illuminated the man at the end of it with eyes aglow.

“You spoke to Magister Damask.”

The low growl of displeasure reached Zahri, but she made the first step forward.

“Sheev. What happened to Cajsa?”

He angled away, a shadow casting over his face and revealing a glimmer of gold, but when Zahri blinked his eyes were the ice, blue hues she knew.

“You came here to ask about that detestable female?”

“No,” Zahri progressed slowly to him, knees quaking at every footfall. “I came to ask… why me? Why did you pluck me—a poor, repudiated woman—to fit into your schemes? Why did you—,” she faltered at a pang in her chest of losing someone she had once cared for, “why did you help me?”

He showed no discomfort at her wavering voice or pleas or sorrow, nor did Sheev look to offer any consoling gestures. In his rigid stance, he glowered at the woman who had reached him halfway, a finger always tracing her stomach.

“What did you tell him?”

“Tell who?”

“Master!” his voice rose several levels higher than the usually collected tone. “Did you give anything away about how that child was conceived or your suspicions of me?”

“Master?”

In a whirl of rage, Sheev marched up to her and gripped her biceps with a strength Zahri had no idea he had.

“If he suspects anything we are both dead. Especially the infant.”

“Sheev, you’re hurting me,” she couldn’t break his hold and was forced to stare straight into the fear he was ensnared in. “I don’t understand!”

He released her with a scoff, “Of course you don’t.” Sheev ran a hand through his auburn locks, a crazed look in his eyes unfolding. “He wouldn’t have sent you here if he had known.”

“Magister Damask would have killed me, I know. It wasn’t a pleasant visit, but I refuse to let things progress the way they are any further,” she put a safe distance between them from the slight bruising forming on her arms. “It’s time you tell me the truth. Are you or are you not a Sith?”

Sheev displayed a strange action, shutting his eyes and standing completely still to control the erratic breathing and shaking fists. In a matter of seconds, the tension was released and the man she was familiar with finally faced her.

He straightened, returning the control he had lost, “I hadn’t realized you were speaking with Soter about such things.”

“Naturally I was curious after the magical performance with the holocrons,” Zahri made sure to meet his stare. “Soter knows nothing.”

“And Magister Damask?”

“We actually parted ways with a mutual understanding,” she noted the twitch for a scowl but held his composure, and Zahri was glad to have the upper hand for once. “That this should be the last time we see each other because neither of us knows what it is you truly want from me and because I’m tired of playing this game. People have gotten hurt and I don’t want to believe it was you. I knew you detested sentients, but you wouldn’t go so far as to actually harming them would you? Vos said you were the last person Cajsa had interacted with before she went…,” Cajsa’s lifeless stare flashed across her vision and it spurred her into a muddled mess of anguish and the final rays of hope she had left. “Tell me that wasn’t you. Tell me you didn’t hurt my closest friend and left three children motherless.”

The hem of a midnight blue robe and polished boots filled her view and the faintest trace of a finger pressed under the chin to adjust her downturn gaze to the man with a misplaced grin.

“Cajsa and I had our differences, but I would never do such a thing,” he explained with care. “Magister Damask and I did happen upon her at a gathering with politicians and investors and we… spoke. That was the last I saw her, and I cannot say who else she was with once she left our presence.”

Zahri pondered at the choice of words but wasn’t given an opportunity to wonder out loud when she was guided inside.

“Allow me to share something with you. It should lift your spirits.”

The better-developed area was operably loud from various machines connected to thick power cables that ran along the ceiling. Zahri followed where it led with her eyes and they turned into a hall they traveled in the opposite way of.

She could have sworn there was an echo of a distant cry but what she doubted was the age range it belonged to.

In a den of remarkably high-end technology that still gleamed of their novelty, Sheev operated a holoprojector unit and illuminated a holodisplay of human diagrams and charts of their DNA and components on a molecular level. Zahri read the sentient blueprints, uncertain of the compounds and formulas she was reading at first but took a step back when she recognized traces of her own fingerprints in the lines of data.

“This is my work. But who…?”

“The Kaminoans,” Sheev worked a wiry grin. “They were very impressed with what you achieved and wondered why it hadn’t been completed. We were very lucky to strike a partnership with these elusive species. It isn’t often they communicate with anybody outside their planet.”

A splitting ache surfaced in her skull and Zahri held her head up, wondering if she was seeing an apparition or misheard everything that was said.

“Why would you--? What do you want to do with clones?”

“To create a better future. A better galaxy. One where there is order and control to expand our rule beyond the systems we know and into the unknown which awaits us. To command those who reside in the living Force,” he maneuvered his stare to the bulging stomach at an answer he had always sought, “and the cosmic.”

Zahri turned her stomach away, “Why did you give me a second chance, Sheev? And what is the ‘we’ and ‘us’ you keep saying?”

“This child,” he stepped close, admiring the being within the womb with an obsessive glint in his eyes, “will be the most powerful being in all of existence, but you made a pact with those who gave it to you.” The grin dipped into a long scowl, “I can protect it from those who will eventually take it from you.”

“What do you mean? Who wants to take my child away?”

Sheev raised hands to placate Zahri’s flux of paranoia, “No one. Not unless you let me help raise it. There is no doubt it will be born Force-sensitive, of that I can assure you. It will need guidance and care, unlike a normal human child.”

She searched beyond the sympathies and thoughtful tone to drive into the heart of the matter, “Was it the Force that put this life inside me?”

He dropped his arms in annoyance but saw there was no way for Zahri to cooperate unless pieces of the truth were shown to her. The woman was too smart for her own good, an admirable yet frustrating quality.

“No. Not the Force. I confess, even I do not know what it was you spoke with. But it was very powerful, and it did not follow the laws of this universe. It governs it. And _that_ child belongs to it and soon it will come and reclaim what is rightfully theirs.” A wide and unnatural grin spread across his light features and imbued with his greed, “With the child at my side we can conquer the galaxy, the universe perhaps, and the Force which guides our fates. And with your brilliance, Zahri, we can create something our mortal bodies cannot achieve and rule it all forever and together.”

The headache expanded to the back of Zahri’s eyes and along the side of her head. She waved off Sheev’s advances, not wanting to look at him or be in his presence.

“I don’t remember speaking with anyone when the holocrons converged. The last thing I remembered was bright light then you having a temper tantrum.”

“I reached into your thoughts and caught glimpses of what occurred.”

Zahri released a sharp exhale, a sudden pain striking her at her back, and was overcome with nausea.

“I need to sit.”

A chair was brought to her without being touched and she sank into it, thankful to be off her feet and given some comfort to process even more of Sheev’s ploys.

“What I am offering is more than you ever wanted. I am giving you everything.”

He was looming. Waiting. Anxious. Sheev had the gift of controlling anything he wished to be his but Zahri was an entirely different matter. She had a mind of her own. Always weary of him yet accepting. Never afraid to question him nor judged his truths. Only with her had he never been afraid to be who he was. Not even with Master Plagueis could he reveal the depths of his desires for it would compromise the lengths he had taken to one day usurp the title for Lord of the Sith.

And he needed her. To achieve what he desperately wanted he needed her. For there was no one else like her.

Zahri couldn’t fit the pieces together. It was a jumbled mess but there was a connection somewhere and she couldn’t see it nor understand. In the mix of pregnancy pains, a pulsing headache, and Sheev digging his expectations into her side, she was ready to collapse into a deep slumber and wake to find the nightmare that lasted a span of less than 48 hours to be all a dream.

“Since I see no droids around, why not act the gracious host and get a pregnant woman something to drink then give me time to ruminate over your plans of galaxy-wide domination.”

Sheev’s frown couldn’t be more disgusted at being ordered about, especially to fetch something.

Without a word, his robes billowed around him when he spun out of the room, leaving Zahri to deflate into the seat and break the mold of confidence she managed to keep up in the entirety of being in his presence.

It was pure insanity. But Sheev knew what had transpired between the holocron’s bright light and waking with faded memories. The possibility of him telling the truth was as high as him lying, and there was no possible way of knowing on which spectrum he was leaning toward. Then when she replayed his side of the story on Cajsa’s tragedy, Zahri felt there was more than what he let on; specifically, Damask’s involvement.

Zahri was desperate and she didn’t know for what. To escape? To hope Soter won’t come waltzing in the compound to look for her because… maybe… Sheev may do some harm.

She smacked her head at the surfacing distrust. Logic was telling her not to believe a word he said no matter what he offered her, but her heart was retaining the memories of a man who put his confidence in her when no one else did.

Without thinking, she silently pleaded to the forces which surrounded her, what she could not feel nor understand nor connect with but believed more than the madness she was trapped in.

“What do I do?”

Far in the distance was the faded echo she heard earlier. Zahri sat completely still, waiting for it to reach her again and confirm if she really heard correctly—that it was the sound of a very young sentient.

With a moan of effort, she lifted off the seat and returned to the crossway where she first heard it. After another pause, the strange cry pulled her forward and continued down the corridor, following the thick cables overhead.

In the complex’s depths was an automatic door that looked like any other, but Zahri couldn’t help the unease creep along the skin and to the base of her neck at what resided behind it.

After a long, extended press of the door’s panel, there was an open space with a wall of control panels to her left and to the right a transparisteel view of what resembled an arena. Lastly, on a holoscreen overhead was a run of diagnostics on training droids of various classes with dangerous capabilities.

A loud thump and a tormented scream had Zahri jump in surprise but pointed her to its source.

At a glance, the protruded corner wall could have been overlooked as a mere structural oddity, but Zahri’s well-trained eyes read more than the surface-level information. The wall was hollow, and she slid her hands over the smooth surface for a panel to uncover the answer she sought.

Flat and flush into the steel, her fingers ran along some grooves and indents and pressed them.

The wall slid open to a thick, transparent pane to showcase a barricaded room without a single light source or existence of the outside world, and in its corner was a hunched being with head bowed into its knees. On the smooth surface, it sat under were nail marks, dried bloodstains, and dents made from fists smaller than hers.

The child jolted when Zahri pressed her fingers to the pane and snapped his head to look over his shoulder, revealing a profile of crimson skin marked with black designs and short stubs of horns crowning his skull.

He flinched at the appearance of a strange person, but when Zahri knelt he noted the restrained grunt of exertion and the balloon which expanded under her dress.

She waited, silent and in awe at the small being who regarded her with suspicion and held her breath when he paced his way to her—slow and careful. Then he pressed his fingers over hers, the pane their only divide.

“What’s your name?” Zahri absorbed the dark, honey amber eyes that were wide with curiosity.

“Maul,” was his small and sweet response.

She repeated the name under her breath, then noted the open wounds on his knuckles and the slight decolorization along his arms.

Another press of a button and the barrier fell away, but when she reached for him he shut his eyes tight and gasped with a whimper. Not wanting to press against his discomfort, Zahri instead left her hand out to grant him the choice.

Maul examined the open palm—a shade lighter than the rest of her dark skin and looked smooth to the touch. Gentle perhaps.

He pressed a single finger at its center, testing for a reaction. Perhaps for her hand to clamp tight around the wrist to toss him against the wall or pull him in for strangulation. However, nothing to those extremes occurred, her hand completely still and her brown eyes blinking softly at him. Her painted lips, a soft pink, stretched into a grin. Not wide and malicious but with good humor and understanding.

“Go on,” Zahri found the tension unnatural from mere physical contact and wondered at the wounds which scarred his skin, specifically the shadow of fingers on his neck.

After a deep inhale of confidence, Maul pressed his hand against hers and was immediately overcome with compassion... kindness; emotions which have been omitted from memory since arriving on Mustafar.

Zahri examined his knuckles and hummed her concerns. “Was this done by you?” her eyes gestured to the damaged wall.

“Yes,” he swallowed. “Sometimes I feel I am suffocating.”

“I can imagine,” she gave the room another one over and the bare essentials it provided. A cot, sink, lavatory, and a sonic shower. A prison. “And these around your neck?”

“Droids,” he dropped to a dangerous tone. Darkness pooled around his eyes and the child was replaced with something cruel. “Master was testing my weaknesses and I failed.”

Zahri dropped her arms to her lap, the fabric of her dress gathered in a clump under sweating palms. And in a whisper, barely able to muster the strength to speak what she feared most, she asked.

“Sheev?”

There was a crinkle between his hairless brows and shook his head, “Master Sidious.”

Although she did not recognize the title, deep in the recesses of her mind the connections were making themselves known, but she needed the resolve to acknowledge them and her mistakes and see Sheev for what he truly was.

A hand pressed to her stomach, the small spot of warmth sucking out the frigid gales of dread, and Zahri waited on Maul who meditated on the life inside her.

“She seems nice.” Maul crinkled his nose with a childlike expression of dislike and pulled away, “A bit loud… and too excited.”

Zahri blinked fast then sung with laughter, “Sounds like a handful.”

Maul’s face construed in a way to mark his bitter agreement which pushed Zahri to laugh all the harder.

The merriment froze in their lungs when Maul’s eyes went wide with horror.

“He’s here,” he whispered and jumped back to the far reaches of his prison, then hurried Zahri to do the same. “You need to hide. Master’s punishments get really bad when he’s angry, and he’s furious.”

Zahri lifted herself off the ground with the doorframe’s support and faced the Master at the room’s threshold, and her nightmares became reality.

“Sheev.”

And Maul was absolutely correct, the man was furious.

He stepped inside, hands clasped behind his back and taking slow strides, the shadows casting reflections of gold in his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

She should have been afraid, for the aura Sheev encompassed her with was far stronger than that of being in Damask’s presence. But instead, her anger clashed with his, a fury fueled by lies and loss and hurt; most especially at herself for allowing it to get to this point. That she needed a child to remove the finger she had been blocking the sun with, pretending it wasn’t there to achieve what she desperately wanted. Because she was selfish and alone and was filled with love ready to be given to someone else.

“Was this your doing?” she pointed to Maul. “Is this what I’m to expect when I hand her over to you?”

“The apprentice cannot learn if they are not disciplined. They must face the harsh realities of the world so they may rise above them and not shun their fears but embrace them.”

Zahri’s breaths were low and deep. She couldn’t remember a time she had been this angry before. So much so her eyes were hot with tears from it, Maul whimpering in the corner, and the betrayal.

“This is abuse,” she seethed. “Maul is not an object but a living being and you’re turning him into something unnatural. You will not be doing the same to my child. I refuse.”

“That infant will be born unnatural,” Sheev bared his teeth at her, gold shimmering around his pupils. “It is not normal and you, a fragile human with no connection to the Force, cannot raise it. It is a waste of power. It is wasted on you!”

“Her purpose is not to fulfill your demented schemes! She will create one of her own and no one can tell her otherwise.”

“But that is impossible,” he inclined his head, a crazed grin stretched his face and a ring of red forming around the irises. “Her destiny is sealed. You made sure of that when you closed a deal with those things.”

“No! I did no such thing!” she crashed against the control panel, sucking in wet sobs and not break down.

“Zahri,” he cooed, providing false placations, “I am your only hope in ensuring the child’s safety.”

She wiped at her face, shaking her head, anger turning into desperation, “No. No. I can go to the Jedi. They can help.”

“If you take the child to the Jedi you will not be allowed to be its mother. They will be her family and the only thing you will be is the woman who gave birth to another addition to their Order.”

He went to reach for her but Zahri pushed off and smacked his hands away, “Don’t touch me. Don’t come near me!” She circled him, analyzing the thing she had befriended for so many years. “How did you know what happened to Cajsa? Vos wouldn’t comm you about it, not to mention no one knew where you were.”

Sheev was still. Silent. A glower penetrating straight to her fears.

“Cajsa always liked listening in to other people’s gossip. Spreading it around and watching the people squabble like mindless beasts at the exposure. She knew exactly where to be and how to listen and discovered too much of our plans. Master ordered me to kill her. Be grateful I had the decency of sparing her life.”

“Spared?” Zahri could barely speak, the hysteria reaching a point she could no longer control. “What you did to her was worse than death!”

He rolled his shoulders without care or for the woman who was about ready to collapse, “It was what she deserved.”

Zahri backed to a wall, biting her fist to hold back the screams. And for the first time was truly looking upon the face of a monster.

“Was she right?” she swallowed. “Did you kill Hadar and my son?”

The dead muteness pressed on her chest. She didn’t know how much time had passed between the reverie, Sheev moving fast toward her, and the screams. Lights and machinery overloaded and flashed the room while components bent under massive pressure.

The pain was unimaginable and an explosion of power, unlike anything Zahri had ever felt, warped itself around her, encasing her in an invisible field. In her abdomen were harsh kicks which possibly broke a rib or a two and she doubled over at its severity.

Sheev attempted to reach for Zahri but instead pressed against a very strong Force shield he could not shatter with his own abilities. Amazement flashed the malice away at the infant inside the womb, able to see movement under the fabric, and more than anything wished to subdue its power under his control.

Then the woman was suddenly lost to him.

He raised a hand and lifted Zahri in a Force choke, the barrier falling away easily. And he delighted in her fear and struggles. No longer was she the woman with a brilliance that surpassed a thousand suns, but a mere mortal who was inferior to him and carried the galaxy’s greatest creation.

“Apprentice,” Sheev called. “Summon the medical droids.”

Maul peeked out of his cell and watched Zahri suffocating under his master’s hold.

“What are you—what are you going to do?”

He gasped and receded back into his cell at the terrorizing glare sent his way.

In an insidious growl, Sheev ordered Maul, “Do as you are told.”

On his tiptoes and with shaking hands, Maul worked what he could from the console’s overloaded circuits and managed to navigate through a glitchy screen. He scrolled for the authorization of medical droids and selected it then stared at the bold font which listed the training droids.

He peeked over his shoulder, a decolorization forming on the woman’s face from the loss of oxygen and tears streaming down it.

He whimpered at the inner conflict and the consequences should he do anything to help. But when Maul remembered her kindness, memories flooded back to him of a time he awoke every morning and fell asleep every evening to a comfort similar to what Zahri had given him. A love that was taken away from him.

In a swirl of hate toward his master, Maul activated the training droids and raised their capabilities to their maximum level, aiming them on a singular threat.

Sheev stared out over the arena and at the droids coming to life with their blaster arms raised at the viewport. He whirled at Maul with fingers directed at him, sparks of blue lighting them until an explosion shattered the pane.

Zahri gasped for the air into her lungs and dragged herself to the exit, shouting at a piercing pain in her side and the continuous kicks.

At first, she thought the flash of red was the blaster fire resounding in the background but there were hummed vibrations whirling in the air which told her the source belonged to something else.

Sheev held a Jedi’s weapon only it was as bright as blood and created stark shadows of the construed violence on his features.

In her peripheral, Maul waved at her to flee but Zahri shook her head and pleaded for him to come with an extended hand.

A choice rested before him. One he only dreamt of.

He sunk to the floor, fingers clinging to the control panel, and stared at the open palm. At his freedom.

Maul swallowed in his master, battling the droids with such ferocity and power, eliminating them all single-handedly with Force lightning and simple waves of his hand. A power he could one day achieve to kill him one day.

And he would rise above the pain that was to come.

Zahri’s arm dropped, not understanding the determined shaking of his head nor the confidence she wished she had and the bravery to willingly remain at Sheev’s side.

Another sacrifice. Another loss. How many more was she willing to make before she was finally free to live the life she dreamed? Why did they have to be made?

She struggled to rise off the ground but was weightlessly lifted, her form set upright.

With a final look at the young zabrak with arm raised from performing his abilities onto her, reminded herself to never forget and the guilt she would live with for the rest of her life.

Zahri sped down the dark corridors. Sweat dripping in her eyes that were already wet with hot tears, and pants mixed with pain and fear. When she reached for the skybridge, some relief expanded her constricted chest at the proximity of her escape. Until the tube shook and she leaned against the rounded pane at the tilting bridge.

“Come here, Zahri,” Sheev purred with a feline’s smile ready to pounce on its prey. “Or I will make you myself.”

She froze, unable to move a finger or turn her head, then her body hovered above the ground. In a slow spin, she was forced to confront Sheev and all his malice.

“I will fight until my dying breath before you lay a hand on her,” Zahri spoke through trembled lips.

“That is exactly what I plan on doing, my dear,” his clawed hand motioned to close, slowly squeezing the life from her body. “I will cut it out of your corpse.”

Zahri shrieked at a force bending the bones and tightening the skin. Then in a hot flash of pain, a scream that pierced her own ears cracked the transparent panes surrounding them and a burst of Force that sent Sheev hurtling back.

She dropped to the ground, fingers stretching for anything to give her the momentum to stand, but her body ached at every muscle that flexed or bone that moved. Doubt surfaced her thoughts—submitting to defeat. She felt small, insignificant, and stupid to have bothered to fight against something there was no way to win against. Since her meeting with Damask, it was already a losing battle, and wondered if the reason the mu’un hadn’t killed her then was because he had expected Sheev to do it himself.

Another kick at her insides reminded Zahri of the life she wished to give her daughter and the lengths she had taken to provide everything she could for her.

She slammed an arm against the warm steel and dragged herself forward, gritting back the pain to hoist her body upright, taking advantage of the bridge’s slight tilt to push up straight.

The fast, approaching footsteps down the corridor was a welcome sound and thanked the Force that Soter was a stubborn fool.

Upon her appearance, he immediately put an arm over his shoulders and balanced her against him.

“We’re getting out of here,” he grunted and cursed at his thin physique which was below the capabilities to lift the tired woman in his arms.

“Hurry,” Zahri checked over her shoulder at Sheev coming around from the collision against his skull. “He’ll kill us both.” A hard object jabbed at her side and unholstered the blaster. “Since when did you learn how to use one of these?”

“Um,” Soter mumbled. “Conversation for another time.”

Zahri twisted her body to rest the grip of the blaster pistol on her resting arm, sucking in the searing affliction of her broken ribs, and aimed at the stumbling form.

She shot one bolt and missed, the sudden sound riling Sheev to a more alert state of consciousness. Zahri fired another and grazed his arm which he hardly noticed when he met her stare with a red haze clouding the gold of his eyes. The deadlock did nothing to deter her finger from pulling the trigger a third time, but the bolt was angled away with a swift wave of his hand then extended it, sparks lighting his fingers.

Having borne witness to the strange phenomenon of Sheev harnessing the elements, Zahri quickly pointed the blaster to the cracked transparisteel at a concise moment where there was a strong eruption of lava and shot the pane.

Magma broke into the bridge and pooled the area with its molten heat, melting the steel and sinking it into the red, river below.

Soter nearly fell back from the sudden dip in the bridge but Zahri’s fingers slipped into the blast door’s slit and gave her friend the proper footing to step into place. From their end of the skybridge, Sheev stared back at them from the opposite side, a snarl breaking his face before he leaped high in the air while blocking spits of lava with Force shields.

Zahri shoved Soter inside and slammed at the door’s panel for it to shut closed and fired at the mechanism to make it inoperable.

Halfway down the corridor, there was the booming echo of steel being pounded followed by a deafening screech of it twisting apart.

“That man isn’t human,” Soter punched another blast door closed and Zahri shooting the panel.

“Far from it.”

She stumbled at another wave of pain along her side and was finding it difficult to breathe.

“We’re almost there,” he pressed her forward, feeling her fingers curled into his robes and tugging him down with her weight.

There was another jarring scream of steel being ripped apart, closer this time.

“Soter!” Zahri held his arm when he released her as soon as they made it outside in the smoldering heat, but he pulled away and pointed to the starcraft’s white light illuminating the ramp toward their escape.

“Go,” Soter tipped over a fuel canister and rolled to the sealed entrance. “I’ll buy you some time.”

“No!” she pulled and tugged at him, too weak to make an effect. “I’m not losing anyone else to that monster! I won’t leave you!”

He released the other canister and gripped her arms, “There’s no time, Zahri. You’re the only one who knows what he really is. You’ve become so much more important than you realize. Not even the Jedi know of their existence. Can’t you see? This goes beyond all of us. You must live!”

She shook her head, refusing to accept how rationale he was, “I can’t. I have nowhere to go. I have no one I can trust.”

Soter took her face in his hands, the rounded padding of his digits soft on her skin, and filled her with an admiration for the rodian she never felt before.

“Trust in the Force,” he gently pushed her away, taking the blaster from her. “Be safe.”

Her mind and heart screamed to stay and drag him across the dirt, but her body moved on its own accord and obeyed his wishes and sacrifice.

Zahri limped to the open ramp and the odious strain of steel cracked the air of an urgency that she needed to move faster, otherwise everything would have been in vain.

As the ramp closed, Soter’s attempted barricade worked only for a short time. Sheev blocked the fuel’s explosion in time with a Force shield and did the same for another one that was prepped in another location.

In the cockpit, Zahri fired the engines and quickly got to work on preparing for liftoff, and when the ship got off the ground she crashed against the controls at the sudden halt.

Sheev held her back with the Force, hands reaching for his prize. He slid when the thruster’s fires blazed brighter but did not relent and inched the ship closer to him. Overcome with victory, he did not feel the rousing rodian who was strewn on the ground with half his body scorched in black and purple markings on his blue skin.

Soter felt for the blaster but saw it was crushed to pieces then noticed the sharp edge of shrapnel beside him. His burnt leg refused to offer any support, so he dragged himself to Sheev and drove the steel piece into his calf.

In a bellow of pain, Sheev released the ship and turned to Soter with unrelenting fury and engulfed his form in a net of Force of lightning. But when he returned to the black sky, Zahri had made her escape beyond the atmosphere with the galaxy’s most powerful sentient.

Zahri trembled in the pilot’s seat with fingers hovering over the navigation pane, not knowing what coordinates to input. What haven to take herself to. She slammed her fists on them. Then once more until she went into a fit of punches and kicks at the block of steel. Her screech filled the cockpit where a lone survivor resided while everyone else was left to suffer Sheev’s horrors.

She didn’t know how long she screamed for. At the end of her session, she was left with a hoarse throat, soaking face, and no direction.

Another moment with herself and the cold silence of space, Zahri raised her head with resolve, punched in the coordinates, and pushed the lever for hyperspace.

_“It is going to take me several hours to reach my destination. The stims help alleviate the pain and any possible internal bleeding, but nothing to mend the broken ribs or stop my baby from kicking._

_I think she’s wanting to come out but the last thing I need right now is to give birth in the dead of space, so I’m begging her to hold on just a little longer.”_

_She meant to sigh but shuttered a gasp at the action._

_“How many more lives will die by his hands? How many more children will he manipulate under his will to aid him in his conquests? How many planets will suffer under his wrath? And I helped him. And I left a child to his demise. I tore a family apart. I ruined a good friend’s life._

_So, this what I can do._

_Qui-Gon. If you receive this, please, you have to believe me. The Sith exist and you and the Order are the only ones who can stop him and Magister Damask. I don’t know who else to turn to._

_I’m afraid to contact the Order directly. I don’t want to be tracked. I don’t want my daughter to be involved in this. So, one of my assistant droids will deliver this datafile to Coruscant and ask for you directly. I only hope this will reach you…_

_TeeTwo, compile the audio into a datacard, and don’t give it to anyone other than Qui-Gon. Transfer any needed credits from my account for travel expenses and make sure to scan a copy of all my verifications for proof. Also, include the coordinates to my workshop. The holocron shards are still there for them to examine._

_Zahri Tefnit, logging off.”_

***

Palpatine pried the datacard from TeeTwo’s twitching digits and inserted it into a console within Zahri’s deserted apartment.

He played the audio and listened to it in its entirety.

When it ended, he selected for it to be replayed. This continued on for several hours. Listen, replay, repeat. Listen, replay, repeat.

There was no way to track the source. No hints of where she was headed. No signs of regret of her defiance against him or choosing a path where she didn’t shun him. She was sure of her choice and content to be rid of him.

The datacard was torn out of its slot, the thin material straining in his fierce grip, close to snapping. But Palpatine had already become attached to the voice he would no longer hear again, unable to shift the emotions into an unbridled rage. Instead, it fueled his pain at her betrayal.

“Sidious,” Plagueis ducked under the doorway fit for humans, the top of his head nearly touching the ceiling. “Is there anything here which could compromise us?”

Palpatine shot the card inside the thick fabric of his robe’s sleeve.

“Nothing, Master.”

Plagueis gave his apprentice a hard stare but Sidious did not bow under it—matching the glower with his own.

“Do _not_ search for her,” he circled around the light room, analyzing the coloring and traces of Zahri’s tastes. “She was clearly out of your element and you have already required what was needed of her. Her survival was a momentous failure and one I expect to never happen again.”

“And if she goes to the Jedi with what she saw?”

“For a civilian to get an audience with a Jedi would mean going through Republic officials which she knows you have strong connections with. The woman’s intelligence is obviously one you have underestimated, so I am commanding you to cease these mindless, human courting rituals.” Plagueis examined a cross-breed floral and the only one of its kind, soon to shrivel and die, “The Sith are guided by our passions but we must be wary of which passions to follow. Some can lead us down a path we can never return from because they are not within our realm of control. Remember this, your failures, and small-mindedness, because one more slip and I will kill you.”

Palpatine ground his teeth together, withholding the urge to end his master’s life and be free of the wispy relic.

He inhaled and quelled the inferno boiling his insides. Now was not the time. As Master had stated many times before, his weakness was underestimating his enemies and Plagueis still held significant power over him. One day, his time will come.

“I understand, Master.”

Plagueis blended with the lifeless furnishing at the artificial stillness of his slender form, the calculative blink being the only indication of blood flowing under his gray skin.

“Dispose of anyone who has had close relations with the woman. Any method of your choosing may suffice but make sure they have no means of contacting outsiders. I understand Soter Baelop has the connections with the Trade Federation we need, and Vos will continue to work under us to keep our various construction sites a secret. I will trust your judgment with the others.”

There will come a time Palpatine will take orders from no one, but he played the apprentice and weak politician until the day would come.

“It will be done, Master.”

In the charred building, and the only one left standing, Palpatine stood in the remains of Zahri’s apartment. No longer bright with life but black and reeked of smoke. All evidence of her existence removed from Naboo.

There was one man he couldn’t find, a scholar who was the source of many Force related theories. Soter was the closest to him among them yet no matter how long he tortured his mind and navigated through the memories, there was nothing viable for him to use and draw out the insect from hiding.

The datacard was placed on a twisted table, the very one often put between them in their casual meetings. Those times have been burned, their ashes relinquished to the winds—forever lost and impossible to retrieve again.

The apartment’s purpose turned into a cage to bury the missing human who would no doubt be in search for any remnants of Zahri’s belongings and clues of her disappearance. Any datacard could have sufficed in the ploy but as his fingers lingered on the device, a simple shock of lightning capable of washing away the only evidence of his existence and prowess, Palpatine hadn’t the fortitude to erase her existence entirely from his mind. A steady growth of possession snaking around his chest and unable to let go.

He pulled away and turned his back on her forever until the day came when he felt a sizeable Force energy on Devaron. One he recognized during Zahri’s escape from Mustafar and the opportunity to mend the mistake Master Plagueis berated him for.

Not only did he kill the woman who had haunted him with her treachery, but he made sure the daughter suffered as well.

***

Naboo was reaching the early hours of the morning, the light peering inside the cockpit and giving it a soft glow.

Maul stared out into the open fields and the sun rising on the horizon, not appreciating the gold shades illuminating the grass and glistening off the trees. He had pretended to fall asleep—for Móni’s sake—since she had taken the audio recording far better than he did, plus sleeping beside another being was another step of intimacy he wasn’t prepared to conquer quite yet. It didn’t help either how every time he shut his eyes there was the desperate search for the memories of a woman who had offered him freedom, but they were nowhere to be found. He wouldn’t be surprised if Sidious indoctrinated his mind to alter the interactions between him and Zahri since his childhood on Dathomir was also a narrative in his life with empty pages.

He leaned against his hand, blocking his eyes from the tranquil scenery.

The missing memories weren’t the worst of it. Nightmares have been a cruel ally in his lifetime and each of them was a test of his resolve to conquer his fears. They were what trained him to realize his weaknesses and turned them into weapons to power the Dark Side and unleash them against his foes. But not when they involved her.

It wasn’t the first time this particular one revealed itself to him, only it had gotten significantly worse since listening to Zahri and the newfound connections he made with her and unknowingly with Móni.

In the one, successful effort in unlocking her memories, Maul had known what transpired when Sidious entered Devaron to take away his long-lost prize. Including Zahri’s demise. Though instead of Móni receiving the nightmares of how her mother died, he was the one replaying them, and each time the scene became more vivid. More gruesome. And he expected nothing less from his former master.

Maul was certain he would not reveal it to her. For in the event the truth was ever brought to light he would lose her to despair and Sidious.

He will not lose her. She belonged to him and nothing will take her away from him. Not even a memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!
> 
> Next chapter we're back with Maul and Móni.


	18. ACT III: Happiness

Móni felt for the spot beside her, not surprised to find it empty. Before she had fallen into a deep sleep Maul’s erratic brain activity was visible just by how he was fixated on the ceiling with a million and one scenarios darting across his vision. There was also the pang of discomfort when she offered to share the cot and he grunted a response that didn’t really express his thoughts on it.

 _So, that was a no_ , she ticked the mental box of various do’s and don’ts with Maul—the list of don'ts slowly shrinking. A show of progression and one she was proud of.

Maul’s reaction to the recording was unexpected, nor did she consider—not in a million lifetimes conclude—that her mother met him at one point in time. There was the flare of annoyance of how he was never mentioned to her, but when she regarded the incident which surrounded Maul’s involvement, it was certainly not a story to tell children or one anyone would want to recount.

Although Móni did her best to capture her mother in the best light from memory, there were dark moments when she found her staring out beyond Devaron’s jungle and lost in a past she must have wished a thousand times over of how things could have been different. Móni was sure her younger self would not have understood the pain it must have caused, but as a woman who led a life of mistakes and regrets, she related to her so well it hurt.

There was never any hate for Palpatine for he hadn’t done anything to Móni personally, only he was tracking her while putting her life on hold for nearly two decades. But it turned personal, not to mention the threats on her mother’s life and having ended a fulfilling career of everything she was passionate about. She couldn’t imagine what it was like to stay in place after leading an explorative lifestyle; traveling wherever she wanted to.

 _She’s been to more places than I could ever dream of_ _being in_ _._

Overall, the fears her mother had combined with the overprotective parenting was better understood. Palpatine was someone to be feared and she had known it.

Móni tried to pick Maul’s brain for any more details he could provide, such as Palpatine’s master or the Jedi.

Him being Qui-Gon’s killer was not what she had expected to hear, the events coming full circle with everything falling perfectly into place, and the unlikely coincidence of Maul being more interwoven in her destiny than she realized.

Although he severed the topic from going any further, the link to his failure still a mending wound, she wondered what the Jedi and her mother spoke about those many years ago on Devaron.

When Hego Damask arose in conversation, however, there was a glint of fear Móni had never seen in Maul before. He explained his one memory of the mu’un was when he was young and inexperienced in the Dark Side and would feel the overwhelming power the Sith Lord spewed by simply walking into a room. Of course, Palpatine overpowered the master, becoming that much stronger and who continued to haunt Maul—shackled by the past and the unseen scars it left on him. If the accounts of what her mother said were true, the prison he was raised in, then Móni wasn’t sure how much more she wanted to know of his childhood. What he had shared with her alone were traumatizing tales no child should go through.

Móni would often consider herself unfortunate, her story a series of loss and pain and self-harm, but there was a time no hardships existed. It was thanks to her mother she was allowed a brevity of what she could have had and a life she wished returned to her more than anything.

It was thanks to Maul she was able to have that with her mothers. Soter. Cajsa. They had never met her but their care for her mother was what drove them to do the impossible, even at the cost of their own lives.

After performing a long, pleasing stretch of the limbs, Móni hopped to her feet and threw on the first article of clothing she saw to meet the grouchy lord and master.

She took a moment to admire the way the light glinted off his horns and softened the deep crimson skin of his arms. A rare scene to catch Maul in; a being who was raised in the shadows, basking under sunlight. The serenity of it suited him and one she wished to experience with him more often.

Móni leaned against the control panel, soaking in his confidence to remain unclothed in her presence and one she was content on continuing to reinforce.

“Is it still bothering you? Not remembering.”

Maul broke from the viewport, having had felt her presence long ago but remained in his head until she appeared before him in nothing but an undergarment and his overtunic draped over her; the size only slightly larger than her fit form due to his broader shoulders. It was a mere piece of fabric, but he couldn’t describe a certain territorial thrum in his veins at the sight of it and wondered ever so briefly if her scent would cling to it.

“Yes,” he massaged his forehead with his fingertips, exhausted from meditations that proved more stressful than helpful. “I fear it may have been altered in some way. By Sidious no less.”

“Did he think you would go after her?”

“No,” Maul had already considered the question on his own some time ago. “From how your mother explained the encounter… I may have formed an emotional connection with her, one that could have remained with me in my training and taint any of Sidious’ teachings. He secured my allegiance by making sure there were no doubts in my mind of his intentions with me nor my purpose.” He blinked slowly at Móni’s consistent tapping, “What is your other question?”

“Uhm,” Móni altered her weight on the other leg and ran her fingers down the length of the tunic in a nervous spell. “Why didn’t you go with her?”

A moment of ‘what if’ passed between them, not through any Force connection or a melding of the minds, but with a simple glance where they imagined a future together and were raised to be truly inseparable. And for the first time, Maul saw a reflection of himself of a point in time where he could have experienced the joys Móni had. The glimmer was fleeting, however, and he pulled away at what had never been. The choice of the past was one he would do again without question.

“Although I do not remember that moment there were other opportunities for my escape. Some constructed by Sidious to test my fealty and others I simply didn’t act upon. To remain meant becoming powerful enough to overpower him and rule as the next Sith Lord. It was what I and every other Sith apprentice trains for and there would have been no satisfaction in leaving empty-handed.”

Móni crossed her arms and pieced the shreds of assumptions whirling in her head, openly displaying how ambiguous she found the whole scenario to be.

“You mean,” she started while processing her thoughts, “you saw no point in escaping because what was the purpose of your mistreatments if you did?”

By the incisive stare meant as a warning for her not to continue any further, Móni realized she had stepped into dangerous territory. Maul was overly confident in his decisions which included the ones made under Palpatine’s apprenticeship, but for them to be questioned was not a notion he took lightly.

“Power was what I chose above all else.”

“But,” Móni could already foresee how this was going to go, but a compulsion to reveal the roots of Maul’s upbringing pushed aside any doubts, “you’ve pretty much said Palpatine manipulated you to forget any attachments of love to other beings and forced you to operate in a way that was in his favor. I mean,” she hardly noticed his working jaw and rising scowl, “you still kinda are doing the things you were trained for and that’s to rule as a Sith Lord. None of this is what you really want but what you were told to want.”

She could have kept going. How Maul stuck with Palpatine because he was promised greatness and power, his rewards for the suffering, and has carried with him an emptiness he thought could only be satisfied with a purpose he hadn’t fulfilled yet. A purpose implanted in him.

As clear as she saw in it Maul, Móni also heard in her mother who was given countless promises that were never meant to be, and the lies were realized too late.

Maul rose straight out of the pilot’s seat, locking eyes with Móni, and imparted with her his vexation.

“My losses. Savage’s death. Mother's sacrifice. The potential for everlasting power stripped from me will not amount to nothing.” Teeth bared, he made every intention to return the blow, “And your mother? Do you not feel vehemence for her mistreatments and suffering? Are you going to ignore _her_ sacrifices?”

Unabashed by the remark, Móni smacked her lips, “I understand why she did what she did. She did it so I knew what it meant to live. To know happiness and love and family. There was always this fear I would be found but she didn’t want to raise me for the purpose I was… created for. She showed me I could be more than that. And I know she wouldn’t want me to seek out revenge because that’s not what her sacrifices were for. They were for my freedom which is what I’m fighting for at this moment. Maybe _you_ should consider who you’re fighting for? Is it for them or yourself?”

There wasn’t a trace of a snarl, but a clear slate of cold anger which could almost pass off as hurt, “I do not want to return to this topic again.” 

Maul disappeared into the cabin, not locking himself in, but the unsettling emotions which hovered about were as bare as she was.

Móni clicked her tongue and massaged her scalp at her callous take on the conversation.

 _Could have gone better_ , but she felt the need to verify whether Maul knew the coping mechanism his brain created to combat the physical and mental abuse. She believed he subconsciously had an idea where the impulse stemmed from but accepted it as who he was instead.

The mechanisms of this zabrak’s mind were driving her insane when she could barely cope with her own. But she wasn’t entirely in the right in this instance for she had pushed the conversation on him more than once and it was becoming insensitive.

She made her way to the cabin, standing at its threshold to observe Maul fitting on an undertunic then lifting his pants up.

“Want this back?” Móni tugged at his missing garb with a thumb but he didn’t give her a glance or a response.

Instead, Maul decided to ignore the dispute altogether.

“Are you certain about going in search for the workshop? A Force Echo on the holocron shards may illuminate some missing pieces to your mother’s story but it can be dangerous. You will be searching through a millennium’s worth of those artifacts’ history and the eventuality of getting lost in it is probable.”

“You’ll be there to help.”

He slowed at adjusting the belt around the waist and regarded her fully. There was still the dispirited tug on his mouth, but not a drop of reluctance remained in the gold pools.

“Yes.”

She couldn’t help the flutters erupt in her stomach at the soft caress of his voice reaching her ears and filling her insides.

Móni tightened the tunic closed around her body and settled the nerves spiking in her fingers.

“Maul, I—,” when his attention was put squarely on her she stumbled horribly but pushed forward. “I didn’t mean to sound so… preachy. I want to make sure if this is really what _you_ want.”

In the seconds it took before she got a reaction, Móni wondered if he even heard her. But Maul finished securing the belt, the buttons lighting up with their connection, and met her at the cabin’s entrance. Any frustrations he might have felt earlier were gone and the warmth of his affections returned.

“It is what I desire most.”

“But can you see yourself being happy at the end of it? Or will you be empty?”

There was a quirk on his upper lip, but Maul reeled in the rising temper and put in the effort to consider her thoughtfully.

“I am not doing this for happiness or a better future. I am doing this because it is my purpose. It is my right and I will not allow him to take anything else from me.”

Maul placed a hand at the back of her head and pulled her forward, their foreheads and noses touching. His fingers tangled in her thick locks, he breathed in her aroma of sweet spices, then felt her aura vibrate around them. A smile shifted on his lips at her sudden inability to meet his gaze.

“Where was this bashfulness last night?”

Móni huffed a laugh and grinned widely, “This is way more personal than you think.”

“How so?”

“In my mom’s culture, a devaronian male’s horns and the two spots on a female’s forehead are meant to form connections. With our clan, the action is seen as highly intimate and meant to symbolize an unbreakable bond.”

There was a lightness in Maul’s chest when she held his face and drank in his gaze but went still at a foreign language whispered to him.

Devaronian, but in a different dialect and one he wasn’t familiar with. Rather than wonder of its translation, Maul inhaled the sweetness of its sound and the accent which slipped off the tongue like rich silk enveloping him whole.

He demanded on instinct. “Once more.”

Móni pressed closer and slid her hand to the base of his skull and breathed on him the words of bonding. Somehow, the second time held more power as they focused on the exhales of their spirits passing between them.

She leaned back and soaked in what had already been imprinted in memory but could not get enough of. The curves and angles of his markings which accentuated the definitions of his facial structure and what a blessing it was to see it so often. Móni circled her fingers around the eyes, Maul closing them to focus on her feathered touches, and dragged them across the lashes which were impossible to see with the naked eye in the black backdrop of his designs.

“Maul.”

The sigh of his name on her lips was one he could never grow tired of hearing. How it rode on her smooth vocals like a song and stripped entirely from its meaning and origin.

Enchanted by her call Maul revealed to her his bright irises, untainted by the red rim of blood.

“Do I make you happy?”

The stunned flash of gold was what Móni expected, including a response that would no less disappoint her, but she had to wonder how self-aware Maul was with his emotions towards her. If he even knew what they meant.

That she was also a choice he could make.

Maul had never put a definition on the feelings that lifted him off the ground and sent him spiraling in a sea of comfort and desires. He simply allowed himself the pleasures of being in her company to take control of his senses so every particle of her being was felt through the Force.

He rubbed a hand over his mouth, remembering the strange outbursts of laughter he had no idea existed inside him nor the grins he ever thought capable of expressing. Only with her did liberation exist within the Dark Side’s folds and when she touched him in the same manner she was doing to him then—attentive to every detail which defined him—the obligations of a lord’s vengeance disappeared. What remained was a being unlike anyone he had ever known and someone he did not recognize.

But they were… _he_ was content. The sweltry fog of hate which illustrated his very existence was often forgotten and he did not—

 _I do not miss it_ , the revelation didn’t spark any pleasure. He was playing a dangerous game by flitting between joy and anger. And it was not the type of joy brought on by victorious satisfaction, but one that was more fulfilling. More honest and so, so luminous.

The battle which raged within him, Móni knew she was on the losing side for Maul was a being who was steadfast in his convictions. Despite what he had allowed occurring between them, there remained a barrier he refused to breach and where the zabrak with amber eyes remained locked away.

Maul adjusted the tunic on her with shaking hands, his fingers grazing the skin underneath and biding himself more time before settling on a reply.

He spoke low and with an uncommon quiver in the usual velvet timbre of his voice, “To be given the opportunity of the pleasures you share with me so freely was not anything I fathomed myself ever experiencing. These pockets of bliss with you have become my greatest treasures and would like to see what more can come from us. A part of me refuses to believe any of this is real,” he mumbled so softly as he shut her away to settle the rising discomfort of what came next. “Afraid of it coming to an end.”

There was a small pause when he ran his hand up her arm, not only to press for her skin but the thin hairs humans were prone to having on their bodies. Simple touches were also enough to drive him into a realm of euphoria. Maul couldn’t describe how the physicality of their relationship changed things, but he was far deeper than he ever expected to be. It wasn’t long ago he stopped revering Móni as an apprentice with amazing capabilities but as someone he could emotionally connect with. But now, she was the third heart in his chest and the only one who could make his blood race with a simple brush of her lips.

Móni was tempted to respond to the prolonged silence and his tender caresses on her arm, but he was far from done. She saw it in the way his mouth tilted in a frown and the furrowed lines on his forehead at his deep concentration. The urge to kiss him came over her in a cool wave but she placated her desires with the prospect of there being more time for that later.

“Soon Sidious will be removed from existence and the galaxy at your disposal is my gift to you. Nothing will keep you from me.” Maul bent close to her ear, tickling her skin with a sigh as he rubbed against her hair. “You will be mine forever.”

 _Forever_ , Móni considered what his ‘forever’ meant. Was it the same one Palpatine promised her mother?

He put his hands on the curves of her waist and drew her into an embrace. They remained that way for a long minute or two, with Móni’s arms around his back and his head deep against the crook of her neck. She rubbed continuous circles on a spot between the shoulder blades as she searched for anything to respond back with, but her emotions couldn’t match those of gratification Maul expressed.

She spread a wide smile for Maul, tucking away the dubious energy and not alert him with any suspicions, “Let me get ready so we can head out.”

He stopped her from shrugging off the article of clothing, “You can keep it on.” He pressed his lips to a cheek then circled around her to head for whatever duties in need of attending before they left.

“Sure about that? I can guarantee you’re not getting this back.”

He rivaled her smirk with one of his own before disappearing into the cargo hold.

An amused chuckle pushed out at the revolutionary development of Maul’s more daring side. When it came to duels, battles, the Empire, or anything considered remotely a threat, Maul could blaze through his enemies without qualms. That being known, Móni’s heart melted for the timid touches after the boost of confidence he needed to inject himself with. Their continued acts of intimacy were leading them into a new milestone she hoped would allow Maul to break away from the restraints he continued to tether himself to. Despite the Sith and their backtalk on the Jedi’s restricted emotions, they were no different in maintaining a certain level of control so their anger would never be overtaken by anything more powerful—their focus never wavered by the insignificance of lesser feelings.

Maul’s face appeared in Móni’s vision as she dressed, pulling her out of the springtime merriment. Her fingers slowly tied the belt over the tunic, tightening it closed, at the smile almost fooling her into believing the sincerity of Maul’s promise until she stared back into tainted eyes.

The goals he set for them were based on his own and fabricated a link to connect her to them. Maul was not wrong in her want to sever Palpatine from her life forever and finally live in peace, but it didn’t get much further than that in Maul’s future. Then when it came to the Force’s hold on her, his solution was to have her be the one in control and alter her own destiny.

Since her apprenticeship, Móni had settled to aligning her priorities with his. It was easier to step in rhythm with a destination already set in motion rather than create a new one. She was also allowed to pursue her own interests on the side, those patches of serenity when she was alone in D’Qar’s jungles or working in the kitchens were some of the most rewarding moments of her time with Crimson Veil. Not once had she bothered to ask herself what she wanted to do when it was all done. What kind of life did she want to live?

 _Travel around like Mother?_ She had seen strange space stations and various planets belonging to crime families but continuing a lifestyle in constant motion was not what she saw herself doing.

 _Return to Devaron?_ Continue the Boudika lineage. She didn’t need Devaron for that, however. Her mom’s teachings were embedded in her heart and remained with her wherever she was.

The largest predicament surfaced her thoughts: reign over a galaxy beside Maul.

Fully dressed, she sank into the cot where every boundary was broken between them. An everlasting bond formed and Móni was in part to blame for its creation. He fought with himself and her for so long, to not give in to the attachments he was so afraid of creating, and now he had it. And with it was moving forward in the only way he knew how: pulling her into his ventures for dominion and control. For revenge. Her becoming a sort of queen in his life and cast her abilities over every star system.

What she strongly wished was becoming clear, and it wasn’t anything Maul was offering.

 _I don’t want it_ , Móni had always known but the solution had become obvious to her then. Her mother’s recording shared her struggles of choices and wants; as if she were speaking to her from beyond the Force and coaxing Móni into lifting the veil of romance and selfish desires.

_I don’t want the galaxy. I don’t want revenge to be my life’s focus. I just want—_

But it could never be. No matter how much of herself she gave to him, Móni could never have Maul.

Again and again, the cycle continued. The brevity of bliss the Force allowed her to experience then yanked away to push her into the path it had designated for her.

Móni swallowed the whipping gales of her sorrow so Maul wouldn’t sense them. The closer she got to the truth, the harder it was to grip onto the realm of reality which she lived in. Some _thing_ was taking her away, its claws were pierced into her fate and battling against her fight for control. A battle she was losing.

She was spiraling again. Deeper. Darker. Into the depths of despair where she wanted to disappear forever because nothing could save her.

Maul decided to not give Móni another cloak for cover, having had a feeling she would disintegrate it somehow. Having her with a visor tickled his imaginings, but he was certain that would also be a wasted purchase and settled with firm instructions to not look at anyone in the eyes and keep her head bowed until they arrived at her mother’s workshop. Simple enough, right?

_Wrong._

On the speederbike, he no longer felt the pressure of her head on his back and caught a glance over her shoulder.

“Móni.”

“There’s no one around.” Her eyes sparkled wide as she fell deeper in love with the planet’s open plains, stretching to the horizons and adorned with various clumps of lowland forests and herds of domesticated animals grazing the pastures. The waterfall she felt a rotation before was becoming clearer, a mist masking its location and the increasing volume of its thundering descent elevating her impatience and excitement.

She rested her chin on Maul’s shoulder, tightening her arms around his waist into an embrace, doing her best to not let the negative emotions from earlier escape and focused on the time Móni was allowed to have with him—holding on desperately to the way they were.

“You’ve been quiet.”

Of course, the one being in the galaxy who was not only skilled with a lightsaber, the Force, and commanding an entire network of crime syndicates was also an expert on the human called Durmónia.

Móni rubbed her face into the back of his shoulder, “I’m going to miss being just the two of us.”

The rushing winds they parted with the bike’s speed broke Maul’s struggle to rectify the clumsy silence he left her in for a few seconds too long.

However, as much Maul was practiced in the arts of handling Móni, she too had become a specialist in reading his moments of quiet. How they sometimes spoke louder than any of his overembellished monologues.

“I know you want to keep us professional in front of the Mandos and crime lords. Nothing about how things were before has to change. Not like I followed much of your orders anyways.”

“That is putting it lightly,” he grunted.

Móni moved closer to the cowl-covered head and where his ear would be, “No one stopped me.”

“Controlling you is like controlling the wind. Impossible.”

“You don’t seem to have too much of a problem with that,” she grinned and although Maul was too focused on steering, the subtle twitch on his lip was enough indication to know he felt it in her voice.

The rumble of approval vibrated his chest and touched her hands which she reacted by lightly rubbing the region.

Maul gripped the handlebars tightly, mindful not to fixate on her touches, “You may see less of me in the coming days after we arrive. My absence has not gone completely unnoticed to the crime lords and my status needs to be… emphasized once again to the simpletons.”

“Not to mention catch up on Dryden and his yacht.”

She laughed aloud when Maul sighed his dismay and mumbled something about a waste of credits.

They reached the massive expanse of water pouring into the plunge pool from a height that could have touched the clouds. Móni smiled into the light mist it sprayed onto her face and inhaled the crisp breeze.

“Like I said before,” Móni held onto his shoulder while she leaned away, absorbing the planet’s life into her pores, “I don’t want to hold you back. Do what you need to do. I’ve got plenty of stuff to occupy myself with as well.”

He nodded, already having an idea of the various responsibilities she had with his crime syndicate: overseeing of the gigorans, the research into what she was, and Force training to form a better connection with it... That was something she was going to need consistent reminders of, Maul could already hear the excuses. The duties she had before leaving to Andelm IV were ones he imagined she would continue to perform, such as working the kitchens and tending to her garden.

Everything would be as it once was except their bonds were stronger and the fears he once had, eliminated. He freed himself from doubt and opened himself to a galaxy consisted entirely of her, the brightest star in the cosmos.

“When there is time I would still like to continue,” Maul swallowed back the stutter which nearly leaped off the tongue, “our late-night meetings.”

Móni tried to get a peek of his face but he intentionally leaned away from view. No doubt to mask the embarrassment he knew she could catch in a glance.

“You mean like last night?” she pursed her lips shut to keep from grinning.

Maul’s back straightened with hardened tension against her chest and spoke in a low growl meant to warn, “In the kitchens.”

“I don’t mind doing it there. On the kitchen island maybe?” She slid a hand under his cloak and pressed her fingers to the midsection and massaged the skin through the fabric.

Self-control was a concept taught very early in his training with Sidious, specifically when it came to fighting Jedi—always being told to bide his time until the opportune moment to strike. Between the heightened senses of her breasts on his back and the heated energy she was doing little to conceal, Maul’s control had never been tested to such extremes before.

He bit his tongue to keep the moan from surging past the throat and inhaled it back down. Rather than concentrate on her fingers kneading with precision on the sensitive sections, he focused on weaving through the swamp’s forest and searching for any signs of the workshop.

“That is not at all what I meant,” he managed to grunt out.

“No?”

Maul sucked in a sharp breath when there was a pressure edging toward _the_ spot and was crossed between yelling at Móni or allowing her to take him to the edge of completion. He bared his teeth, prepared to strike at her with the former but his composure broke when another hand entered the fray and a moan unwillingly pushed past his lips.

“Oh look. We’re here!” Móni jumped off the moving vehicle without hesitation and strutted into the shrub infested area in the shallow wetland.

The speederbike made an abrupt stop with a very perplexed zabrak on its seat. Maul stared slack-jawed at the woman who had him under her spell within seconds and ceased the enchantments just as easily without guilt.

His mouth was parched for more, the skin still tingled for her touches, and a hot demand scorched his insides. All he could wonder was ‘why’ and if he had done something to displease her. But when Móni gave him her profile there was a wide, leering smirk and an incredible burst of arousal which doused his own.

“You staying or coming?”

Caught in a daze, he powered down the vehicle and swung off, following her instructions without comment or really hearing her.

Maul reached her side with a muddled brain, “That was intentional.”

“What was?”

Móni stepped faster, pressing her emotions into the Force to navigate through the dense bog and touching upon the faint traces of a woman who walked these grounds many, many cycles ago.

“You’re toying with me,” he released a frightening growl but to Móni it was a common display of his vulnerabilities.

“A bit.”

The confession was not what he anticipated, and Maul was again thrown into a loop, “What do you gain from this?”

Her usually infectious grin pushed his frown into a scowl, especially at the glint of mischief in her eyes, “It’s fun to tease you.”

Of that, he was aware of since their first encounter and Maul couldn’t understand how the insufferable personality wormed its way into his hearts. “This is different,” he bit back.

Móni slid her fingers along a long blade of grass, catching any echoes of the past in its aged roots, “What do you think you gain from it?”

“Frustration!”

Maul clamped his mouth shut at the slip of control and refused to meet the orange glow of amusement that was trying so hard to catch his humiliation. But she twisted herself around him, forcing their eyes to meet by sliding her arms around his neck and pulling him close, her lips tantalizing his own at their proximity.

“Want to do it here and now? If you don’t mind getting a little mud in your joints because I don’t care about getting a little dirty.”

The heat of her skin pushed against his warmer temperatures and her face blocking the planet’s swamp from his vision escalated the blood flow into his fingers which twitched to take hold of the fabric that shielded her naked form. An image of her beneath him—legs parted, breasts heaving with sweat, and her loud cries—wound his muscles as if ready to spring at her and push her onto the cold, wet earth.

He took a moment to take in their surroundings, hearing only the creatures who inhabit the area and not sensing a sentient soul in its marshlands.

Maul inhaled deeply and slid her arms off him, disappointed at his own decision.

“No.”

Móni hummed her enjoyment at the internal conflict, tipping Maul off at her knowing what his answer would have been long before she asked the question. The very prospect ignited a slight snarl at his nostril and pushing her grin even wider.

“Someone upset at me?”

“Clearly.”

Her erupted fit of laughs and white teeth easily wiped the dismay from his body and sunk into the squelching ground beneath the cybernetics.

She rubbed the tip of her nose against his, “We’re close. C’mon.”

He let her part from him and considered a ploy of his own to match hers, Maul refusing to give her the victory. After some consideration he fell directly in step behind her and brought his hands to her breasts, his nails lightly scraping over the fabric and touching the nipples which hardened instantly under his touch then released a deep growl from his core. Móni’s whimpered response hitched his breaths and with every semblance of willpower he had tucked away, Maul released his hold and watched her regain her footing after stumbling to the side.

“I can see the amusement of your tricks,” he steadied his breaths and tucked his hands inside the cloak to alleviate the need to roam further. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Móni suppressed her urges with a skill Maul wished he had, but he did not miss the darkened flush on her cheeks which stretched under her gleaming smile.

“Dying from overstimulation doesn’t sound like such a horrible way to go.”

“I’d rather live to perform the act another day…”

Móni whirled at him with a stifled pause of amazement before barking a guffaw deep from the stomach.

Maul could have missed the workshop’s location from the overgrowth of thick reeds and sedge covering the area, and the massive trunk of a cypress that looked no different than its counterparts was just as easily dismissed. Through Móni’s eyes, it was an entirely different world.

She touched every object she could get her hands on and the essence her mother left behind on each of them. From the moss to the blooming, yellow marshworts floating above the murky ponds, and the soil she was consistently digging into—her hands now caked in dried mud. Finally, she rested on the cypress’ gray bark, running along the rough and cracked skin until a rather synthetic panel made Móni gasp in excitement. Except, after giving it a press, nothing changed.

“No power,” she mumbled and pressed her hand flat against the tree, envisioning what resided inside its body and the secrets it carried.

“It is hollow,” beside her Maul had his hand pressed to the trunk, impressed by the craftsmanship.

“You’ve gotten better at that,” Móni pushed against the wood and summoned the Force to shove the automatic door open, its long time enclosure had given the cypress an opportunity to seal it in. “Didn’t think you really paid attention to my, er… habits.”

Maul followed Móni inside an arched pathway, carved with meticulous artistry to implement vein, thin wires running along within the tree’s rays and what once gave the organic facility power.

“I had always been aware of your unique bond with the planets you interact with. Ever since the time you showed me the Old Republic ship,” he examined one of the fine wires and where its source led to, but it was impossible to track any just one for they were constantly crossing paths with the other. “D’Qar is a planet rich with the Force and it bends to your will even when you are not commanding it.”

“Don’t think I get what you’re saying.”

In the tree’s circular center were the degrading instruments of a renowned architect and engineer. Worktables with grayed and cracked screens, datapads rusted at the edges, and various tools scattered about—slowly dying in a home their owner never returned to until they could no longer be awakened again.

Sprouts of green had begun to peek into the cracks; new life spreading into the lifeless space and giving it a new purpose. Maul called Móni with a motion of his hand and shifted his eyes to a stem with budding leaves.

Móni flicked her attention between him and the plant, finally giving in, “What are we doing?”

A smile twitched on his face, but Maul retained his usual mode of focus, “Wave your hand over it.”

“Ah?”

He took her hand and performed the motion for her, and the leaves followed the movement.

There was a moment of silence as she processed what she saw then stared at Maul.

“That was the wind.”

“No.”

“It was the kriffing wind. Like,” Móni flapped at it, creating obvious gusts.

Maul raised his brows in mild amusement, tightening his mouth shut to keep from smirking. After pushing down the crazed hand he gently passed over the seedling without any effects, then repeated the process with Móni once again where there was notable movement.

“Non-sentient life is naturally drawn to you. Perhaps sentient as well, given how you can interact with others with little effort.”

The sinking expression was one he should have seen coming, any oddities to further dissuade her mortality was a topic she disliked the least.

“Let’s look for those holocron shards,” Móni scuffed the dirt that had piled on over the years, pretending to not have seen another aspect of herself she would have rather been ignorant of.

Other than the woman who was kicking up clouds up dirt, Maul was more docile in the search not only because there was a better chance of finding the pieces in a collected manner but was overthinking his usual ineptitudes when dealing with sensitive situations like the one he just broached.

“Upsetting you was not my intention.”

Móni ceased her small tantrum and blew out an exhale that dispersed the brown dust around her, “It’s one of those things I’ve always known but chose to ignore. Being told about it and actually seeing it happen kind of forced my eyes open when I’d rather not deal with it.”

The tip of her boot scraped gently over the ground and Maul was overwhelmed with an abhorrence he hadn’t felt from her since leaving Vos’ estate.

In a spurt of confidence, he laced their fingers together and captured the sunset in her wide surprise.

“You are so much more than how you see yourself, Durmónia,” he grabbed her face before she had the chance to turn away from him. “This is what I see every moment you are in my presence.” Maul touched his lips to the corner of her eye, “Your eyes reflect the rise and fall of the sun’s rays.” He traveled to thick coils, “Your hair blends with the darkness of space.” His hands ran up her biceps and brushed his lips across her cheeks, “Your skin radiates a rich and warm autumn glow that never leaves my dreams.” Maul hovered over her lips, “It is as if you were molded from the physical and cosmic aspects which shape the galaxy.”

With her fingers curled into his cloak, Móni was pit between many strong emotions that scaled from embarrassment to joy to lust and was overwhelmed by which one to express.

Having sensed every stroke of her feelings against his own, Maul pressed beside her ear and continued his praises. From how her smiles smoothed the harsh edges of his anger and the bombastic laughter which he swore shifted the Force’s balance—no longer disrupted in the Dark Side’s shroud caused by the Empire’s existence. The slight rasp in her voice when she would get overexcited with the most trivial things and how absolutely endearing he found her obsession for food and agriculture. He even threw in her horrible mechanical and piloting skills which only added to the attractions to every one of her imperfections.

“I admire your honesty,” he continued and held her hips made of flesh and bone against his steel ones. “How I was never looked upon as someone to be feared. Since the very start, you were guided by a curiosity for me and never relented in giving more of yourself to me. Your bravery... although it can be confused with recklessness,” Maul rumbled his exasperation over the fact.

 _You are everything I never thought I needed_ , he nuzzled her face, the disbelief of having her at his side resurfacing.

She didn’t want to believe any of it, Móni couldn’t see the person Maul was describing, but his soft touches along the neck and his light pecks on the cheek told her otherwise. The being he had in his arms was the very same one he portrayed aloud, and she was overflowing with his truths and an intense surge of ecstasy she had never felt for another being before.

Móni gathered the collar of his cloak, the temptation to tear it open restrained for his consent.

“I am super turned on right now.”

“Yes, I sense that,” Maul blinked rapidly at the strong reaction he caused and the arousal awakening his own—their heaving chests synchronizing and breaths getting louder.

“I don’t think I’ve ever—never heard or felt something like this from anyone before. You meant every word.”

Maul chuckled at her astonishment and wanted to state how it was all so obvious to him, but her mouth sucked the words right out of him.

She pushed him against a console, overgrown with roots and budding saplings, trapping him in her clutches with fierce lips and a dominating tongue that melded with his.

The wall of control was torn, and they fumbled for the other’s clothes while Móni spoke between hot pants, “I wish I could eat your laughs and smiles. They’re so perfect like your markings.”

In the mix of the sensual cravings was a type of pleasure or excitement he could not describe—the experience completely new and was what pushed a welcoming pain on his overstretched cheeks. Until a rip tore through the moment.

In her hands was a tattered cloak Móni was too impatient to unclasp and Maul sighed his defeat. No point arguing about their only cover which meant they had to wait until evening to return to the ship.

“Sorry,” she mumbled unapologetically between kisses.

“Don’t tear anything else,” the threat in his tone lost to a guttural moan when Móni traveled to his collar bone to nip and suck at a soft spot.

“No promises,” was her ostentatious response as she yanked the tunic open and had it fall past his shoulders.

Maul sank his teeth into her neck and gave an inner thigh a light stroke, teasing his way upward and weakening her resolve at the knees.

He lifted Móni by the thighs and set her down on the console, then quickly worked on unraveling the belt when a sharp chime against steel sent a subtle vibration up his cybernetics and to his abdomen.

Móni groaned her disgust when she saw the gleaming peak of a small pyramid uncovered from the layers of dirt.

“By the Force, I hate it so much,” and with said Force, she raised the holocron piece to set it on Maul’s palm. “Jedi or Sith?”

“Jedi,” he rubbed off the excess soil that clung to its gold finish. “A Sith fragment should be nearby.”

Maul’s erotic switch was shut off, fixing his attire, and went in search of the task they had originally come to the middle of the swamp for, which was why Móni had hoped there would have been no distractions to deter the hyper-focused zabrak.

“Let’s find it later,” she attempted to beckon him back to her.

He scuffed around the console Móni was sitting on and slid an askance look her way, “You could quickly track the final piece if you connected with the Force.”

She shrugged, “Maybe.”

“You are stalling.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Móni.”

“We’ve got time,” she stretched her arms out for him to come into, but Maul simply returned with a weary stare.

Finally, and with reluctance, she dropped her arms. The battle lost against responsibilities and duty, Móni stretched out her senses through the Force.

Beyond the tiny tracks of life which have traveled above and beneath the accumulated dust over the course of many years, the imprints of her mother’s touches across the area, and one other very subtle presence—one she had the displeasure of encountering on Coruscant. Palpatine’s Force energy had been so strong when he was there to converge the holocrons, it left a stain in the tree’s lifeforce.

But she used those feeling to assist in tracking the similar energies a Sith holocron no doubt carried. A hate that surpassed Maul’s and a darkness deeper than tar, Móni called out to it and pulled them forward.

A weight was placed on her shoulder to break her from the concentration, and floating before them were three palm-sized pyramids covered in soot. She dropped them into Maul’s open palm and stood tall.

“Doing this now?” she held her hands out, one for each Order, and awaited the pieces to be placed in them. “Maul?”

He tapped the two pyramids together, his stare going through the pieces and into a far off realm within his thoughts, “This can be perilous. If _I_ can feel the remnants of their history with my own capabilities into the Force, I cannot imagine what you may see.”

“It’ll be fine,” she wiggled her fingers for the objects, but his hesitance proved there were specific concerns he wasn’t explaining. “What is it?”

“Do not lose yourself in the past and do not stray,” he was sharp with her and did not shy away from the severity of the situation he felt she was putting herself through. “Focus on what you need to find and nothing else. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

However she responded was not enough for Maul who dropped the holocron pieces on the console’s black screen and gripped her firm arms—pleading.

“You are linking yourself to two objects which have converged at one point in time and the representations of completely different spectrums of the Force. This is nothing so simple as grazing a leaf or touching the earth. You once mentioned how your connection with the Force is stronger when you sync with your kyber crystal, now picture that but much stronger. Móni I—,” for once he wished he was a proper master to her, so she had no choice but to obey his orders. But with how they stood as partners, as one, there was nothing he could do but express the core of his conflict. “I am advising you against this.”

“Mhm,” Móni urged him to continue, sensing the urgency of the matter and how important it was to him.

“You are strong in the Force, that much is certain, but your emotions are sensitive. They do not affect your abilities, enhance them perhaps, but they do cause your mind great strain.”

“You’re worried I’m going to move backward and not forward with what’s been going on up here,” she tapped her skull.

Maul clamped his mouth shut but Móni was neither upset nor bothered by the subject. Tired, maybe, when she sat back onto the console and leaned into her thighs. “I know I’ve been teetering back and forth with everything that’s going on. It’s been hard confronting what I hate most about myself and not think of...,” she rubbed her face and mentally washed away the resurfacing thoughts which had appeared mere minutes ago until Maul distracted her. “Look, I know what I have to do. This is important. I know it is. It's—none of what we found is enough. Count Baelop’s research. Mother’s recording. U’lis’ mysterious Force message (which is _never_ helpful and stupid). None of it has told me what I am or what I’m meant to do. Only speculations. And these will,” she gestured to the holocrons. “Will there be a mental breakdown after the connection? Sure. Will I be okay afterward? I’m already not okay so no point worrying about that. But can I recover?” Móni regarded Maul and the discomfort in his tight lips and twitching jaw. “Well? Do you think I can?”

He observed her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over their knuckles and slightly raised veins. There was doubt, Maul could not deny that part of him who had seen her succumb to self-hate one too many times. Earlier was a prime example of how easily she could fall into the chasm and there may come a day she would choose to remain there.

 _Not as long she has me_ , he promised her. He would be the strength she needed, as she was the one he needed.

Maul took a breath and met her gaze, “Yes.”

“Alright then,” she displayed the lopsided grin and he immediately regretted cutting off their heated moment. “Let’s get started.”

Before she had the chance to touch either of the holocron parts, they froze where they stood, opening their senses outside the workshop and into the swamps.

Móni spun around with lightsaber in hand, “There’s about a dozen.”

“Hm,” Maul affirmed her count, calling the pyramids to hand and tucking them into a pocket on Móni’s utility belt. “They are not Imperial.”

“I don’t think so either.”

“Do you see another way out?” he assumed her familiarity with her mother’s designs could offer any guidance.

She did a quick scan of the area and did see a potential exit but was never completed given the hanging wires and no door panel installed, “None.”

They concluded with their only option, Maul removing the long hilt of his lightsaber from his belt, “We will fight our way through, then—”

“Fly?” her face brightened with hope at an answer only she wanted.

He was silent for a cool while, working his jaw at the word he didn’t want to leave his mouth, which Móni found a little odd when he was doing so well accepting being carried.

She inhaled a loud and sharp gasp at the realization of Maul’s pause, and he held a hand up before she could say anything.

“Fine but I expect to be returned to the ship as fast as possible.”

“You got it.” As they made their way back through the arched path, Móni leaned in to softly whisper from behind, “I’ll try to carry you when no one is looking and not embarrass you in front of our new friends.”

She snorted back a laugh when Maul scowled at her correct assumption.

“Focus,” he released a deep and low rumble of caution when they approached the exit, thumb on the switch for ignition.

“Let me try talking first, yeah?” Móni stepped ahead of Maul before he had the chance to protest.

He went to grab at an elbow or perhaps the belt to pull her back, but she was already outside and immediately stopped before an enclosure of mainly humans and gungans with blasters on their hips or blaster rifles at the ready. Móni, however, immediately gravitated to a presence she had felt before, the old man with tawny skin and a wide-brimmed hat from the cantina, and beside him a woman with dark hair and piercing brown eyes. Her attire was certainly of Naboo quality: durable, white field gear and a cloak wrapped around the shoulders.

The woman’s eyes darted fast to Maul when he made an appearance, her glare turning sharp upon recognition. But the older man stilled her twitching fingers over the holster with a pat on a shoulder.

“I know her…,” Maul whispered at Móni’s side, matching the woman’s glower.

Móni could taste the violence permeating the atmosphere from him alone and pressed a finger to the tip of his nose. The action shifted every pressure of fury and aggravation on her instead, exactly the reaction she wanted. “Sit tight, alright?”

She stepped into the circle, unable to keep her eyes off the older human amongst them who was bone-thin with bent knees and had a long silver beard.

“Abbas says you have something we need,” the woman spoke for him.

“The scholar,” Móni mumbled under her breath then looked to the woman. “And you? Figured you already know who I am since you’re asking for things without introductions.”

Her fair features caught the sun’s golden glow on half her face and Maul hummed at the recognition.

“I am Sabé. Former handmaiden to the Queen, Senator, and Daughter of Naboo and you have something that can benefit the rebellion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	19. Amidalans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: self-harm

Móni replayed Sabé’s proclaimed position, making some sense of it, along with the string of other titles she had no idea how they related with the other.

“Um,” she held a finger up and deferred to her counsel of one. “Who is she?”

“She was the protector and double of a past queen who then became senator of Naboo. A shadow,” Maul explained simply.

In the narrow scope of glares and the expedited sense of violence, Móni asked another important question, “She wouldn’t happen to be the same queen as when you were here last time would she?”

Maul’s thick silence and long stare explained enough.

 _An issue, but not the main one_.

With a better grasp on who they were dealing with, Móni continued, “Wanna elaborate on what you think we have?”

“You have a datafile that can incriminate the Emperor’s identity,” when Sabé stepped forward so did a group of women, all roughly the same age and with similar features. “We are not asking.”

“It’s back on our ship,” Móni closed a hand into a fist, holding back the urge to twitch for a certain pocket on her belt. “If you want we can meet you there then hand it over.”

“We’ve searched your ship and there is nothing there,” the former handmaiden reached for her blaster pistol and everyone else around her did the same, their trigger fingers prepared to open fire. “Abbas may trust who you are, but I know what he is,” she darted a glance at Maul. “And he is no ally, so neither are you.”

 _They’re efficient_ , Móni could also assume she and Maul have been followed since their time on Naboo. Their focus was strictly on Imperials, so neither suspected they would be sought after by civilians… or previous guards to royalty.

“The message was meant for the Jedi Order and they’re gone. There’s nothing in there for a group of rebels.”

“We’ll be the judge of that.”

Móni blew out her frustrations on a hanging curl and slapped the side of her leg at the final straw of subtly, “Look, I’m not handing it over for personal reasons. So, I suggest finding something else to help with your little cause.”

Sabé arched an eyebrow, her black lips stretching for a threat she had long since hidden, “Not long ago, Theed was put under Imperial lockdown and in search for an individual that matches your description. If you’re not going to hand it over to me then I’ll gladly hand you over to the Empire.”

The stare on her face stung like fire on Móni’s skin and was impressed by how he believed them so readily. She wanted to reign in it as a bluff, but Maul had a mastery for detecting deception. Thus, she put her trust in his intuition and confronted Sabé.

“Go ahead then,” Móni’s attention went to her lightsaber, a possessive hold taking root in her mind at the only device in the galaxy with her mother’s voice. “And I promise they’ll hear about a group of Naboo upstarts they’ll be sure to keep an eye on once they’re through with me.”

Abbas broke away from the crowd and hobbled forward, ignoring Sabé’s warnings. He stopped a few paces before Móni, his watery eyes searching for a woman of the past and who she bore a striking resemblance to. With shaking hands, he pressed at a vocoder implanted in his throat and a metallic voice sprung past his dry lips.

“How did she die?”

Móni lowered her head, unable to meet the man’s intensity, and was reminded of how Count Baelop looked upon her. With that same familiarity she couldn’t return.

“In a fire,” she pushed out. Rather than stall for time, Maul’s bottled impatience ready to ignite the lightsaber and sever the heads of everyone within sight, Móni went straight to the source. “There’s information about what I am in there I don’t want anyone knowing about. It’s not a recording meant to expose Palpatine, it’s a confession of her mistakes, and it has nothing to do with the resistance or Empire. And if a highly revered and educated scholar can’t even turn the heads of people who know nothing about the Force to understand the power who’s running this galaxy, then how is a dead bioengineer going to?”

“I am so sorry for your loss,” Abbas pressed for his throat and if was truly sympathetic toward Móni’s grief, he either was very good at concealing it or the vocoder couldn’t pick up on the right tone. “Your mother was brilliant and kind-hearted, and she deserved so much more than what Sheev did to her. She loved you before your birth and her love continues to protect you now.” His wild eyebrows pinched together in deep thought, “But I also know she would have done anything to put that man in his place and avenge her losses. To absolve herself from the errors she made.”

Móni turned her face partly, making sure she heard right, “Absolve?” A furious spark exploded in her chest, “You blame her for what happened.”

The formalities Abbas displayed slunk back and was replaced with an astute stare Móni was too flustered to notice. Maul on the other hand pushed out his feelings and sneered at an intention he could not determine. He scanned the males and females hanging back, as if in preparation for something to occur.

 _For us to attack?_ No. Their defenses were too weak for that.

Abbas met Móni’s anger with his own losses, some of which Zahri had never known nor how far her selfish transgressions had stretched over the lives of so many people.

“The fate of the galaxy had been compromised because of Zahri’s ignorance. If the things Soter told me were true, how your creation was not of the Force, then you are a weapon Sheev must never have. If he has you, then he can command this plane of existence, altering the fate of this galaxy and everyone in it.” He paused to swallow a grimace of pain, “You are no human, Durmónia. You are a fabrication of something beyond a sentient’s understanding and your existence puts us all at risk.”

Within every ounce his power provided, Maul pushed his senses to the edge of the swamp and the tips of the tallest tree and ignited his red blades.

“This ends now,” Maul snapped and bared his teeth to every being in their vicinity.

He raised a hand to the sky and brought down two gungans who lied in wait above them and with stun nets tangled in their grasp. They struggled under the pressure of an invisible force and moaned strangled cries.

“Here is where you die.”

Maul was too busy suffocating the squirming gungans and the bolts singing through the air to notice Móni’s lack of initiative.

She noticed the motion of Abbas’ arm. He tried to be subtle, but it was painfully obvious of the blaster he was pulling from behind his back and she did nothing to deter the move. Before Móni was a man who knew what she was capable of. Unafraid of the choice he was willing to make. And there was peace to that, to finally be looked at for what she was and not something surreal or peculiar or an object of power.

The blaster fire was drowned out. There were only two heartbeats, hers and the one who could finally lay her to rest.

“What are they?” Móni’s mouth hardly moved for the question. To die with at least knowing what in the universes allowed an existence where she was only made to suffer. “What made me?”

Abbas aimed the emitter nozzle at her chest and mouthed the name of those who controlled.

Sparks of red illuminated with the sharp ignition of plasma running through the blaster’s valves and coils, the final melody of her end.

A surge of activity vibrated the atmosphere along with a high whistle of incoming aircraft, but Móni remained steadfast in her choice. Even when her nose tingled with a scent mingled with the heat of carbonization. There was a soft sigh in the winds which caressed her face with familiarity. Floral and sweet, it surrounded her with immense sorrow.

In the furthest reaches of the Force, within its cacophony cries and whispers, there was one who sung out to her in a loving embrace.

 ** _Forgive me, M_** ** _óni_**.

_Mother._

Maul sensed an incoming party as he battled back a group of women with practiced choreography whilst dodging whizzing bolts. Each carried their own form of combat: electrostaffs, blaster rifles, double pistols, or a single one, and each with practiced forms. Techniques meant to protect their queen and senator were used against him as if still carrying out an unfinished duty from many cycles ago.

He halved one electrostaff, but the woman spun them in her hands and wielded them as batons in a seamless transition. However, with a steel kick into her abdomen, Maul sent her to the ground and Force pushed another into the marsh.

There was no time to finish the battle if they wanted to escape Naboo without being caught by Imperials. He snarled at the rebel cell’s incompetence for leading an enemy they shared right to them and held Sabé in a Force choke, their attacks silenced at their leader clawing her throat for air.

Maul knew fear, especially from within, and how he often passed off the quake in his chest for hate. The hate would be directed at himself for even allowing fear to drive his actions when it was he who should be in control of it. But in this one instance, it exploded out his mouth in a desperate cry at what he wished was a lie or a trick in his imaginings. That the woman whose veins pulsed for a good fight remained stagnant before a blaster pointed at her heart, the finger pushing for the trigger. And the total clarity in her eyes at what was occurring.

Green bolts impacted the ground and masked Móni in an eruption of soil and dust, and Maul dropped the former handmaiden without pause. TIE fighters soared past overhead, circling back to drop another array of firepower upon the scattered rebels.

“Everyone, retreat below!” Sabé ordered her cell. “Eirtaé. Rabé. Take them to the hideout. Saché and Dormé, with me.”

Before the next round fell on them and the dust had settled over their targets, Sabé motioned Saché to Abbas’ location, his frail body struggling to rise from the slippery earth. Then took Dormé to the pair of beings crouched to the floor.

They approached the zabrak with blasters raised but he whirled his lightsaber at them, his face construed in a horrific scowl with eyes that burned for their demise. But Sabé shook her head at Dormé who was prepared to open fire at him when she noticed the fallen woman’s form in his arm, barely breathing.

"We can save her," she bartered, “when you give us what we want.”

The TIEs returned and caused a disturbance in their surroundings, but not enough to break the cold glare of defiance. The glowing blade shook in his grasp from a mix of tension and desperation Sabé easily interpreted and pushed the male with crimson skin toward her offer.

“I know you’re no Jedi,” Sabé paused to reconsider the other term; one used briefly while in the presence of a senator and her Jedi Knight. “A Sith, perhaps, but our enemy is one and the same.”

The lightsaber steadied in a moment of clarity, and Dormé having recognized the arching back and quiet stroke of death which washed over his features, stepped before Sabé with blasters aimed right at his head.

“The old man attempted to kill her,” he pushed out, granting them a final show of cooperation if they answered correctly.

“He acted out on his own,” she explained. “I don’t know why he did what he did. The plan was to trap her then force out the location of what we’re looking for.” Sabé glanced at the shallow tempo of the woman’s chest, “She doesn’t have long to live. Kill us now or let us help you.”

It was instantaneous, the flicker of excruciating panic in his eyes’ fiery hues. But its brevity could have been the way his head was angled or how the sun brightened certain components of his face to cast an illusion. Whatever Sabé may or may not have seen, a monumental decision was made and the zabrak lowered his weapon.

“Are you sure about this?” Dormé openly stated her concerns in front of him, swallowing the dread that rose like venom to her throat.

Sabé breathed deep and searched for the resolve they needed—for the rebellion, for Naboo, and for her queen, “Is the enemy of my enemy a friend or foe?”

The zabrak carried the woman in his arms—her head tucked under his chin—with a tenderness neither Sabé nor Dormé could believe he was capable of.

“Mark my words, handmaiden, the outcome of her safety will determine the fate of your insurrection. Only then will you know where the line of ally or enemy is drawn.”

He did not stop there. Sabé was frozen with a cold drop of death that sunk into the pit of her stomach at his piercing stare. No words were needed at a promise that if he sensed the slightest trace of treachery, he had the power to end each of their lives without qualms.

“Then we better hurry.”

Maul pressed Móni tighter to his chest, never ceasing the frantic strokes against her lifeforce which was weakening by the second—never looking at the hole made near her heart and what could have ended her life if the TIEs did not enter the fray.

Sabé and Dormé knew the swamps well. They hid under hanging shades of alders or dipped into the clumps of sedges when Imperials whistled overhead. They camouflaged into the terrain, the planet forever protecting its inhabitants as he was guided to a lake totally topped with watershields.

“We only have one extra,” Dormé gave Maul an aquata breather. “Hope you’re good at holding your breath.”

She quirked an eyebrow at the indignant stare and bit into her own aquata breather, leaving Maul to his own devices with the strange woman who held some level of importance in this whole ordeal.

Móni’s quieting breaths hit Maul’s neck but it was the steady beats of her heart pulsing against his back he focused on. The floating plants parted for him as he stepped into the cool waters and sucked in as much oxygen into his lungs before submerging.

He followed the women through a waving garden of the watershield’s roots then past a cliff’s edge where a small settlement of golden bubbles illuminated the dark depths below. As the seconds passed, the sparks of fire burning Maul’s lungs expanded to his throat, but he pushed on with Móni’s weightlessness on his back and one arm propelling him through the thick density. What also helped fuel the perseverance were the furtive glances thrown his way as if hoping he would drown.

 _Not likely_ , Maul had faced worse trials in the past; being forced to survive underwater with limited oxygen and movement. Plus, a zabrak’s lungs allowed for longer minutes, unlike a human’s weaker biology.

Driving to them in a trail of bubbles were a trio of gungans on one-man submersibles that easily propelled them through their domain. Two pulled the handmaidens underneath them and carried them off, while the third stalled upon the scrutinizing glare that shined as bright as the hydrostatic force fields that glowed behind them.

“Wesa’ll get dare faster on dis,” was the female’s meek attempt at a non-threatening offer.

Spots were beginning to color his vision at the lack of oxygen, and although his pride and capabilities would have ignored the assistance at first, Maul took any seconds he could spare for Móni’s survival.

The moment he entered the structure’s portal and into a breathable environment, he collapsed and took massive gulps of oxygen into his chest. Immediately he was surrounded by handmaidens who lightened the load from his back—a load Maul refused to give away so easily.

“She does not leave my sights,” a snarl pushed past the heavy pants but when he tugged at Móni’s hand, the lack of warmth stopped his hearts.

Sabé wiped away the droplets running down her face and waved her hand at the women to continue whisking the half-dead woman away.

“No one is stopping you,” was her brusque response and followed them to the medbay.

Maul’s steel footing slipped on the wet surface when he attempted to stand. There was a sense of a hand reaching for him, but he yanked out of their hold—not meeting whoever had touched him in the eyes and stood on his own after a minor slip or two.

No matter how weak she felt, Móni’s energies were always prevalent to his senses. They outmatched the myriad of beings who stared as he walked with heaving breaths and a sore arm. Detestation. Suspicion. Death. Their fingers were at their blasters, sensitive to give them any reason on open firing at someone who was an enemy to their people in the past. May still be their enemy which Maul was very clear on. However, the show of confidence was made when he wasn’t weak with exhaustion nor in complete disarray at the soggy clothes clinging to his languid body. But Maul was quickly finding that second wind, pumping his veins with strength and just as prepared to fight back against the rebel cell if they so happened to follow their instincts by not letting a dangerous Force wielder prowl their sanctuary.

His feelings honed on the Force which guided the living and shaped the cosmic—wondering if it would allow her life to end so prematurely and without cause. If it was prepared to take her in its arms because of an impulsive decision.

A droid outside a transparent, fish-egg sphere—housing a bustle of medic droids and equipment—held a hand to protest his entry, but Maul flung it to the side with a wave of his hand.

“The droids aren’t done with the procedure,” Dormé stepped before him. “Give them some space to stabilize her.”

“Step aside or I will do so myself,” Maul raised a hand, the motion alerting the handmaidens in the area and stepping into offensive positions.

“Let him through,” Sabé removed the cape around her shoulders at the extra weight of water soaked into it then whispered in Saché’s ear who nodded and retreated out of the area, passing Maul with a hard glance.

Dormé released the hilts of her holstered blasters and stepped aside for Maul to approach the operating table where Móni quietly laid while a droid scanned the hole in her chest—casting a glaring light on a harsh reality. One Maul could not fully comprehend nor wished to face. But what he did understand was the old man’s part in it and how he must have provoked her in some way to bring down her defenses to suck the final shreds of dignity she had left.

Maul’s nails grated the cool surface and tightened into a fist, withholding the urge to tear the place apart and find the feeble being so he could watch the eyes bulge out of his skull as he choked the life out of him.

And if the violence couldn’t be any harder to control, his chest constricted with fury at an unbuttoned pocket on Móni’s utility belt.

“Before you get any ideas about blaming us for the Imperial presence,” Maul did not turn to acknowledge Sabé, knowing if he looked upon her then it would be all the much harder to not eradicate her on the spot. “They have no idea of our presence here and we were sure you weren’t tracked either. Wherever we were at, they had the exact coordinates.”

Sabé didn’t waste time for a response and turned to two rebel members, “Stay here and keep guard. I’ll send others later to cover for you.”

She examined the strange scene before her: a Sith standing over a fallen being with worry settling over hunched shoulders. Never looking away as he analyzed the droids working the woman’s wound and monitoring the body’s activity. A holoscreen displayed the readings the droids were receiving and was satisfied at the steady progression. However, and unfortunately for Sabé, it was a very slow progression meaning it would take all the longer to get the datacard and remove them from her sights.

“We also know who _she_ is,” she wanted to leave the zabrak an obvious show of authority and influence her cell had on the planet. What the consequences were if he chose to do anything outside their agreement. “Zahri Tefnit was a highly regarded architect on Naboo. Even the queen at the time was an admirer of her work and left a piece of her legacy within the palace.” Sabé pointed at the only unconscious being in the area, “And it’s only because she is her daughter most around here aren’t so ready to pull the trigger on her. You, however, no one has an issue blasting you down in your sleep.”

“You are most welcome to try,” Maul alerted the whole room when he flexed over the lightsaber and regarded Sabé with mockery, “or would you like to test your confidence with me now?”

“Once she’s in the clear and you give us what we want, we’ll provide you a bubble bongo out of here and that will conclude our business.”

“Didn’t find what you need when you dug through her belongings?”

Sabé hesitated mid-step but pushed on and out of the medbay, not looking back to acknowledge Maul’s assertion.

Partially left alone, the place guarded with a gungan and human at the entrance and some togrutas and mon calamari at the surrounding exterior, Maul returned to Móni but never dropping his defenses. He trusted how badly they wanted the information on Sidious but not sparing their lives, despite having Zahri’s inclusion saving their skins for the time being.

Their situation with the rebels wasn’t the worst of it. If what the handmaiden said was true, assuming they weren’t entirely incompetent by not leaving any tracks of suspicion when they followed Maul and Móni, then Sidious knew where they were for he was the only being who was shown Zahri’s workshop in her lifetime. He purposely sent troops to the exact location, knowing where they would be, and that the device primed to explode upon entering the apartment building was set by none other but him.

Maul could only wish the hideout’s security was enough to withstand the Imperial’s might until Móni was well enough to escape with him.

His finger skimmed over the edge of his belt, feeling the slight groove of the datacard he had tucked away, knowing how important it was to Móni if she had taken it with her in the first place; trusting something may go awry on their quest of her creation. That Sidious had a larger part in her past than either of them realized and continued to remain a part of it.

He went to remove the utility belt, checking their compartments and the holocron pieces. In another there was the slightly larger bulge filled with the holodevice Count Baelop’s droid had given her. When everything else seemed to be intact, including the lightsaber which remained on her person, Maul continued to remove her boots, water spilling out as he did so and rolling off the soaking socks. He slid a hand around an ankle for the warmth of her skin returning.

Lips quivered with rage at a pain unfolding from his chest and tightening his throat. There was no way to describe what it was that shook him to the core nor how to mend the wound inflicting his insides. Rather than confront the emotions, Maul rearranged them to focus on the hatred toward the old man and the imaginings of extinguishing his life.

 _Once she is well_ , Maul refused to leave her side but in the meantime could meditate on the man’s location.

Maul turned sharp at a presence piercing the veil of his protective aura and Saché placing folded articles of clothing nearby.

“She should get out of those wet clothes.”

She went to unfold one but was seized in place by a clear and smooth command that sent a cold wave from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.

“Leave it.”

Saché dropped what she had in hand, returning Maul’s disdain with her own, “Suit yourself.”

Once her presence receded out of his senses, Maul lifted a piece of fabric and grimaced at the very Naboo quality that would make Móni appear as if she was one of the rabble.

“The patient is stable for a change in outerwear,” a medic droid secured the bacta patch over her chest. “She has been injected with nutrients and a sedative to calm her erratic brain activity.”

Maul whipped a garment out of its fold and gave the droid a harsh and questioning stare, “She is dreaming?”

“The activity is mainly in the anterior cingulate cortex,” it changed the holoscreen’s display to a human female diagram of rendered muscles, veins, and bones that made up Móni’s body, flashing at a certain part of the brain. The scientific evidence of her very normal human shell but what she often perceived was never hers; her consciousness always living outside of it and with the Force. “And her heartbeats are above the average range, so I would conclude to a nightmare than a dream.”

“Is the sedative working?” Maul found himself whispering at what he feared may be happening beyond the realm in which he stood in.

The droid took its time in reading the scans, which Maul was very close to snapping the thing in two if it didn’t provide an answer soon.

“It is not. And I do not advise in giving her anymore else she would remain comatose for much longer than her body would like her to.”

“Are you done here?”

“For now, I am—”

“Make yourself scarce.”

“It is advised for me to monitor her in case anything should—”

“I will not repeat myself, droid.”

“Very well. I will return to check her status.”

The droid hovered out of the medbay with its smaller counterparts following close behind, leaving Maul with nothing but Móni all for himself. His fingers traced a curl, tempted to explore further. Feel for more of her. Fill her with his touches and bring her back to him. He inched to the forehead, inclined to connect with her but wavered at a memory of her reprimanding him the last time he entered her thoughts when she was overcome by chaos.

 _This is different_ , he assured himself, but the fingers did not press her skin.

There was the possibility of making things worse for only she knew how to traverse the Force’s depths and his presence may prove to be a liability. Maul also did not forget how fierce she was when he was thrown out. Móni’s anger was a rare sight and she was furious with him then.

In a state of frustration, Maul invested himself to alleviate her physical discomfort of being stuck with wet clothing and started the process of undressing. As he lifted her upper body close to him, another wave of anguish weighed on his hearts, sinking him deeper into the lake’s depths and drowning him. Maul sucked in a shaky breath and the strength was lost in the arm that was peeling off the tunic and dropped to the table in a heavy thump.

 _Why?_ He repeated to himself, hoping an answer would reveal itself. But there was none.

Under the lake’s deep blue layers, there was an abysmal quiet. Peaceful to some but in Maul’s perspective it was a prison made of water and he spent every hour analyzing the spheres which housed many compartments of the rebel cell’s operations. The communication center hung from a pillar a few klicks away, and further down were opaque spheres he was sure were some of the housing units for the members. There was also a four-hour rotation with guards and two-hour intervals with the medic droid checking on Móni as it had promised. And every thirty minutes a figure walked past the medbay, and he was positive each one was a handmaiden checking on him.

Maul pressed the back of his hand to Móni’s cheek, then the neck, relieved at her temperature returning and her lifeforce almost at its usual, heightened strength. As he stared at the lashes brushing the top of her cheeks and the expressionless curve of her full lips, he asked himself what she would have done if the roles were reversed. A better welcoming, perhaps. She received a rather fair one with the gigoran clan who helped heal him. There would have been fewer guards and less scrutiny.

Móni could talk about her indifference for the galaxy, but she certainly had a way with those who lived in it. She never judged, never ridiculed, never thought herself above the rest. Always listened and assisted where she could in her clumsy way. Maul supposed their inversed morals and personality were one of her many qualities which attracted him to her. How she represented the capabilities of someone who had no boundaries and was completely limitless in their affections and emotions.

He adjusted a bend in the cuff of her newly applied outfit, the top left open for the mending wound. The cream tone matched what Sabé wore and although there was some disgust to the thought, the material was warm, and he knew how much she preferred warmer climates for the deep waters were just as open and unknown and cold as space.

“Through victory, my chains will be broken,” Maul murmured over her. “The Force shall free me.”

His brow furrowed. Maul had always known the meaning of the Sith Code, but there was a different perspective when it came to Móni. Her emotions were the chains… as well as the Force. And the more he put himself in her situation, tried to understand in some capacity of her suffering, the more he realized how useless the tools which guided him could not guide her. He was utterly powerless for the code he was raised in, the lessons he learned, the methods he was taught, were not enough to help her. They were never able to.

Several beings flickered across his vision and the ones whom she would have been better off serving under.

Maul bowed into his open palms, despising the ones who had made themselves known in his thoughts. Hated how he even considered them—how they would have been better than him in controlling her self-destruction. That maybe… he was the wrong choice.

Hands clawed down his face when a presence touched the heightened sensitivity of his emotions. His ears fumed and breaths turned into heated flames when the old man stood in the entrance—bent knees and long beard and oh so frail.

“May I speak with you?” Abbas’ metallic voice was unafraid, a horrible mistake.

A snarl broke Maul’s features with eyes were set aflame at a singular intent which he followed on instinct by raising a hand.

Immediately the area was swarmed by rebels with their blasters raised, shouting to release Abbas, but Maul continued to squeeze, reveling in the gasping chokes and nails scratching at the throat.

“Put him down or she dies,” Sabé appeared out of the crowd and put herself between the gasping man and Maul. She flashed her attention to Móni’s location and where Dormé held a blaster to her.

“I will sink this entire facility to the bottom of this planet along with your rebels and you will never have the precious knowledge of an Emperor who is beyond your reach,” Maul boomed with aggression, his voice reaching the far corners of every chasm that shaped the watery oblivion.

Sabé flexed a hand with unease, eyes shifting to Dormé who fidgeted uncomfortably under the pressures of pressing a cool nozzle to a defenseless woman’s head. “I know you have what we need,” she steeled her nerves and battled against Maul’s cruelty. “And we’ll fight until our dying breaths for our Queen who died without cause. To expose the man who was birthed on our planet and seeks out the galaxy’s demise. And no daughter to some notorious woman or a being who can lift things with their mind are going to stop us. So, here are your options: let Abbas go and she lives, or she dies then you’ll face the might of the Amidalans who have the home advantage.”

He knew the options, saw them the moment he lifted Abbas off the ground, but Maul was also prepared to put everything on the line if it meant avenging Móni’s pain.

_“Take it from someone who did get their revenge. I didn’t feel any better when I killed Druan and Ravi could have cared less about him living or dying.”_

What then if he did kill Abbas? Móni would not praise him or meet his victory with glee. He could already imagine the sullen stare which would question his reasoning.

 _“Maybe_ _you_ _should consider who you’re fighting for? Is it for them or yourself?”_

Maul loosened the tension in his arm, letting it fall along with Abbas who heaved back the lost oxygen. Even when comatose she was able to nag her way into his brain.

The atmosphere’s tension defused but not enough to clear the area and Maul sent a pointed glare at the woman who stood beside Móni. Dormé raised her hands, free of any blasters, and scooted off to the side, steering well away from the off-limit zone.

“It’s alright,” Abbas’ voice crackled out from the slightly damaged vocoder as he accepted Saché’s helping hand. “You may all leave now.”

“We’re not leaving you alone in here,” was Sabé’s swift response.

Abbas waved lazily at her, his mettle worn down with age to fight back with as much vigor, “Wait outside with a unit if you must, but it is not him I am frightful of.” Silver, thick, and messy eyebrows lifted to reveal gray clarity as he concentrated on Móni’s still form, “She is the one we must fear.”

Maul stepped into Abbas’ line of sight, forcing his attention away, “What do you want, old man? Have you come to finish her off for good this time?” He was desperate for him to try again so there would be a legitimate excuse to sever his life once and for all.

“I should. She is too dangerous to be left alive.”

Maul bared his teeth with an insidious growl. “You’ll be dead before you lay another hand on her.”

Sabé patted Abbas’ shoulder, “The girls and I will be the only ones in here.”

No point in arguing against battle-ready women, Abbas nodded his reluctance. Nothing more was said while the rest of the Amidalans trickled out, always sending weary looks over their shoulder, but were given nods of reassurance from their leader.

The handmaidens spaced themselves in a semicircle around Maul and Abbas, placed at every blind spot to catch any foul play.

Abbas licked his dried lips and composed his thoughts before he began.

“Anyone who knew Zahri was aware of how desperate she was for a child of her own. Almost an obsession. What she failed to realize that the contract she made was not for just her and Durmónia, it was the _universe_ and Durmónia. That thing,” he pointed, “can destroy planets. Galaxies even. And if Sheev has that, then we are doomed.”

Maul examined the wrinkled scar along Abbas’ neck, recognizing the wound and the potential cause of it. He quieted the rage into a simmer and folded his hands behind his back, pacing lightly which raised a level of concern in the room amongst his guards—the discomfort pleasing him.

“Tell me, Abbas,” the name fell out of his mouth with scorn, “how did the Emperor come to know what she is or her capabilities? Even his understanding of her existence was minimal until someone told him. Until someone betrayed Zahri and the Count’s trust.” Abbas’ composure broke the second he looked away, and Maul reveled in his victory, “What did it cost you to side with the enemy?”

“He gave me no choice,” Abbas muttered and held his throat at the consequences of his actions. Wincing at the memory of a red blade slicing his throat open. “Sheev would have killed Zahri and Soter if I didn’t comply, but I escaped with my life when he thought me dead.”

 _There is more_ , Maul openly regarded the man with accusation when a flux of fear stroked the Force.

“What else did you say to him?” he unclasped his hands, the desire to manipulate the mind lingered over twitching fingers but restrained the compulsion into a tight fist.

Abbas clamped his mouth shut, leaving Maul to deliberate the crumbs of evidence that could lead him to another act of betrayal. One so large it frightened the old man more than the Emperor.

The sphere quaked in his fury, the medical instruments shuttered at a realization, and Maul could not hold back any longer.

“You told him they were on Devaron.”

“I did,” he confessed. “And I realized too late what it had cost.”

“Her life,” Maul seethed, ignoring the women who were preparing themselves for an attack.

“Our lives,” Abbas corrected. “I hoped Sheev would have killed her because she was a threat to his own power. I didn’t realize he had wanted to use her.”

There was nothing left to speak about, a haze of red coated Maul’s sight, and the Móni in his mind was overcome by a shout when he shortened the distance with a single pull of the Force and gripped the man in his hand, cracking the vocoder.

“And here is where your choices have led you,” Maul couldn’t be more pleased by the prospect of being the orchestrator of his demise. “In my grasp.”

Maul deflected several bolts with his lightsaber but stopped mid-swing when Abbas sputtered out with crackling pops, “Your love can’t save her. Nothing can. We can only save ourselves.”

There wasn’t time to process nor even the chance for Maul to exact his vengeance at the assumption. And as electricity coursed through his body, shocking his nerves, his final thoughts were of what he had been trying to express to her this whole time but couldn’t filter it past the makings of a Sith.

 _Could it save her?_ If he allowed himself to go that far.

But there was no solution past his head striking the cold floor and darkness.

Muffled voices sparked the brain awake. Rousing his senses but unable to move from a heavy weight clamped around his wrists.

“Get up,” was a harsh voice from above.

Maul scraped the binders across the steel floor and leaned into them to push off his bruised face. He popped his jaw out of a stiff lock then stretched it before turning to Sabé who stood on the other side of an enclosed, blue sphere.

“Where’s the datacard?” she demanded the moment he set eyes on her. “Tell me or she’s a bolt away from us finishing her off.”

He did not stand to meet her demands, nor did he care to. Maul glowered up at her, disappointed at himself for permitting Abbas to rile his emotions and not end him.

“Your morals will not permit you to kill a defenseless being or she would be dead by now,” Maul countered.

“What do you know about morals? You didn’t seem to have any when you stormed the palace for the Trade Federation’s control.”

“I know that by killing her now you would be no better than the Empire that has already eradicated millions and enslaved planets. It is also not becoming of a handmaiden to soil their hands with needless bloodshed.”

Sabé clicked her tongue and spoke to a human besides her, “Search the medbay and the woman. He’s hidden it somewhere in there.”

“Release me and you will have it,” Maul held in a scowl. “It is not long from now she should awake, and we can complete our deal.”

“You don’t have it,” was her biting reply. “Now excuse us before you waste any more time.”

He jolted at that, rising to meet the rebels at eye level, “Time?”

She gave Maul a look over, twice, her loathing for him growing stronger by the second, “You seem to attract trouble everywhere you go. At least, as long as she’s around.”

Maul released the scowl he withheld but did not feed her theory with anything more. It wasn’t long until he realized Abbas wasn’t with them and his hearts sank to his stomach.

“Is she alone?” he swallowed thickly, thinking he perhaps hid the desperation well enough.

However, Sabé was perceptive and picked up the subtle pitch of someone with dreaded concerns.

“I have someone keeping an eye on her. We made it perfectly clear to Abbas about our intentions and he isn’t allowed in the medbay.” She stopped after several steps and returned to Maul. Her mouth opened to say something but chose to keep the thought to herself and continued on.

“What was that about?” Saché wondered out loud. She had known Sabé the majority of her life, each of them sharing qualities of a woman they adored, including the moral and political aspects that made her who she was. Their dark hair and brown eyes were subtle reflections of her existence living on in the realm of the living. Especially Sabé who mirrored the former queen to an almost exact likeness, down to the ferocity for justice and peace and love for Naboo. There were times Saché and the other handmaidens had to take a moment and remind themselves it wasn’t their queen they were looking at.

“Don’t they remind you of…?” Sabé drifted, then shook her head. “Nevermind.”

“Of Anakin and Padmé?” Saché finished her thoughts. “I can sort of see it. Can’t really put my finger on it. Their personalities are nothing alike. Maybe the woman is like Anakin?”

“No,” Sabé shook her head. “That has nothing to do with it. I think it has something to do with how they care for each other. The Jedi weren’t allowed to love but if they could, with what I saw between Anakin and Padmé, it was something fierce. Impenetrable. Even I couldn’t really understand it.”

“A Force-user thing?”

“Maybe,” Sabé fell into a past where there was a Republic, war, Jedi, and love that managed to mix in the center of it all.

“Their love ended in tragedy.”

The sting of Padmé’s death was a lesion in their spirits that had yet to heal; not until they knew the mystery which surrounded it. Anakin’s included. 

“Yes,” Sabé agreed mournfully. “Yes, it did.”

“Sabé!”

Rabé sprinted down several bridges, glowing orange with gungan designs and what created a network to link the transparent spheres. She hardly broke a sweat in the run and didn’t huff a pant.

“We caught some chatter in the Imperial comms,” she hurried. “They may have found this location.”

“Are you sure?”

“Eirtaé is scouting the surface and there’s a lot of activity going on.”

“ **Rab** **é!** ” Eirtaé’s voice came through a commlink on Rabé’s wrist. “ **They found a way through! Get everyone out!** ”

Not a second later an explosion of bubbles and smoke tore apart a bubbled facility nearby, water pooling inside and sinking it into the abyss.

“Send everyone to a submersible,” Sabé commanded. “Eirtaé, get the ships prepped and ready to go.”

“Are we giving them up?” Saché asked the hard question. “They’re only here for those two.”

“Did Dormé find anything in the medbay?”

“Nothing.”

Sabé took a sharp inhale on a decision, “We’ll take Zahri’s daughter. She can help us with what we need to know, despite how Abbas feels about it. His paranoia is getting outlandish.”

“And the zabrak?”

“What about him?” Sabé spun away at Saché’s mild shock. “I may look like her but I’m not her. Let’s go.”

Another explosion rocked the structure and Dormé held onto the operating table, keeping Móni from sliding off.

Outside in the main facility was a bustle of activity while everyone reached the lower levels where the bongos were located, and the place tilted again from another strike. This time the main hold was hit by a powerful green beam that whizzed straight through causing a rush of water to spill inside from the holes it created.

Dormé looked between Móni and her people who were now struggling to swim to the bongos and made the obvious choice.

Móni slept soundly, surrounded by rushing water and the occasional dampened fire of beams piercing the water—vibrant green clashing with soft golds and amber in the deep blue backdrop. Easy breaths came in and out of her lungs and the darkened circles under her eyes faded to their natural tones.

A human shadow cast over her quiet form and an arm raised with an object in its hand.

Abbas smoothed the blaster’s trigger with a finger, testing his resolve.

For a moment he did see Zahri in Móni, but when she opened her mouth the comparison ended. Rather than rely on emotions and sympathize with the loss they shared, the past bared down on him like a million bolts showering upon him. The consequences of her mother’s actions, his friends hunted down and killed under unknown circumstances, and he narrowly escaping the glow of a red blade. Abbas rubbed his throat at the excruciating memory—a life taken from him.

He pressed it against the head of curls, sucked in a breath, and pulled.

Sparks flew from a console where the red bolt struck, and Abbas gasped shuttering breaths at fingers curled around the emitter nozzle.

Móni sat up and bent the nozzle upward, rendering the blaster useless, and scanned her surroundings. She swung her legs off the table and stretched them out along with her arms, then halted to examine the new outfit—humming with approval.

“Let me guess,” she jutted a thumb to the Imperial submersibles blasting their way in, “either they’re here for your skeevy gwerp behind or I’ve made it to the top of being the most inconvenient person to be around in the galaxy. And if you don’t tell me where Maul is, I’m going to make it the former.”


	20. Ixigul

A black void stretching as far as the universes sprinkled with glittering white specs. No planets. No cosmos. No life. It simply was.

Móni floated in its shroud, without conscious and completely unfeeling. There was no mass to pull her down, no winds to chill her skin. Deafness clogged her ears and her nose breathed nothing into her lungs. She simply was.

A white string streaked across the nothingness. Then another. And another. Until a network of paths intersected with the other and ended with gates shaped in a perfect sphere or pyramid. One parted the void above her, a light shimmer in its entry of a transparent veil that hid some unending truths behind it.

The hands of trillions who had passed and become one with the universe wrapped around Móni’s limp arm and raised it, lifting a single finger to dip into the gate’s mystery and engulfed her.

Her skin came to life from yellow spots pushing through her eyelids and a homely warmth stretching its rays across her body. There was the crisp scent of grass after the rain and the slight dampness in the air created a soft and cooling breeze to counter the heat, and she could have stayed like that for all of eternity.

“What are you lying about here for, girl?”

Bright eyes flung open at the stern command of a female who towered like a mountain and a body as mature as a ceipa’s wide trunk.

“Nothing!” Móni hurried with an adolescent voice and brushed off the lingering dirt from her smaller and thinner body of a teen. “I’m ready now!”

Simera’s orange skin blended with the seasonal foliage that brushed her body and her deep purple locks—braided to the hip—matched the blooming lilies that stretched toward the clear skies. She struck the soft earth with the base of the energy pike and hummed her skepticism but said nothing as she stepped beside Móni, taking the lead to traverse the jungles.

“What are we doing today? Find some onca tracks and see if they found any thapira for us to hunt? Maybe follow a pack of dasy and so they can lead us to new fruit or nut trees? Or _maybe_ I can go play with Onkar and his siblings.”

The devaronian huntress pushed aside a looming leaf with her weapon, its width large enough to wrap around the teen and let the younger being pass through. “Whatever you like. We’re here for you.”

Móni hopped on a stone and balanced on its thin point. “We?”

“Your mother and I.”

“Mother isn’t here though.”

“She’s here. Watching and guiding.”

She leaped high and swung from a firm branch, then took hold of another ahead of her. “Not when I needed her most.”

“She’s doing what she can.” Simera moved beneath Móni’s swings and waited for her to fall onto her back where she clung to the shoulders and wrapped her scratched legs around the torso. “It hasn’t been easy for the two of you, but you have to trust her again.”

“Mother kept so many things from me,” Móni spoke into her arm. “And you too.”

“We couldn’t explain to you what we didn’t understand. Plus, your mother lived in fear every day—how one day you would be taken from her.”

“I was.”

Simera rubbed Móni’s arm with comfort. “I know.”

“Momma…”

“What is it?”

“I resented her for so long. Even after all she did for me. Hated myself for it. I hated myself for a lot of things.”

“You’re very special,” Simera whispered a watery response. “Not because of what you are but for who you are. There is no one like you and there are many people in your life who see that in you.”

“They don’t need me.”

“Tell me about them.” Simera leaped into the air and swung off a branch to bypass a river. She crouched in her landing and set for another course under the green canopies.

“Ravi?”

“I met her for a moment. Very nice girl. She loved you very much.”

“Is she happy?”

“She is free and more alive than you will ever know.”

“Then…” Móni thought hard. “Kyp!”

She explained how they met, including Zione and Qar-Tan and Avin. What they have done to help ease her out of the hole she was stuck in and brought her to life. Reminded her again what it was like to have loved ones and care for people again.

“Zione was the one who was really strict with me,” Móni continued. “He saw things Kyp would never know about. Awful things I would do.”

“You should speak with him. Your friendship hasn’t been the same since you left the Abolition. Or do you want things to end unfinished between the two of you?”

Móni scrunched her nose in discomfort. “He’s been so angry with me and hard to talk to.”

“He’s worried about you.”

“Has a funny way of showing it.”

“Is he wrong to be worried?”

She thought a moment. “No. I haven’t been a good friend.”

“How so?”

“Not telling him how I feel. How I’ve been hurt. Feeling defeated. Sad sometimes.”

“Maybe that should change.”

“Maybe. If I get the chance to.”

“You will.”

They passed under a curtain of vines with crimson hibiscus that have unfolded their massive petals to the sun and Móni plucked one out, its size about as big as her head. She wore it like a hat, trying not to overthink what the color reminded her of.

“Am I dead?”

“Not exactly.”

“I was hoping to see Mother.”

“Oh?” Simera grinned wide with a chuckle. “Am I not good enough for you?”

Móni tightened her arms around Simera’s neck and kissed a tattooed dot that ran in a pair down her cheek. “You’re perfect, Momma. I missed you so much.”

“Hm.” Simera tapped her head with the pike. “I’m not convinced.”

“What do you mean?” Móni pouted and slid down a round shoulder, tattooed with their clan’s culture. “I’m always thinking about you. Whenever I’m on a new planet I use your teachings to navigate and every connection I make it’s like I’m connecting with you. The galaxy was always different through your eyes and it’s something I will never forget.”

“Have you been to many planets?”

“Loads!”

“Which one has been your favorite?”

“That’s easy.” Móni made some giddy kicks. “Devaron will always be my favorite.”

“Good answer.”

“Better now?”

Simera tapped her forehead against Móni’s. “Yes.”

They passed a cave and Móni was struck with a familiar scent, a unique aroma mixed with wet stone, and it came from a garden of black krinos growing out of the moss in darkness. Their petals curled in a similar fashion as the markings on crimson skin and she was transported to who was left behind.

“What’s your flower?” Simera broke the memory.

Móni gasped, having forgotten the little game they played whenever she found it difficult to express what was on her mind. Being asked again mended the heartache and what she had known for years.

“I’m in love.”

“What’s your thorn?”

There was a sting in her eyes and Móni dug her face into her momma’s shoulder, breaking into a sob—gathering fabric in her clutches and mouth straining to say the words.

“I hurt him.”

Simera planted the energy pike into the ground to situate them inside the cave’s mouth and by the black krinos. She gathered Móni in her arms and let her cry out what had ailed her while giving her hair long strokes of comfort. They remained that way for a while until the cries quieted into hiccups and sniffles.

“I didn’t mean to.” Móni wiped at her face and pressed close to her mother’s breasts where the steady beats of a strong heart pounded. “It’s just been so hard, and I feel so alone. And we don’t exactly see eye to eye on the future. Not like it matters because I don’t see myself having one so what’s the point? Then I think about you and mother, and I would like something like that with him. Just… happiness.”

“Your mother and I had our differences. Oh, yes.” Simera smirked at the knitted eyebrows of disbelief. “When we first met we argued all the time. Her talk about combining technology with nature, while she would shriek when I brought to her my first hunt. It was a mess. Took a long time for us to come to terms with our differences.” She tucked a lock of curls behind an ear, deliberating another thought that came with pain. “She had her troubles and loss and loneliness I could never understand. And I had my own too.”

Móni slid a hand down the energy pike’s shaft. “Your clan.”

“Being the last of a once powerful clan comes with loneliness and guilt. That maybe I should have done more to keep what remained of us in our territory. But they sought adventure and the great galaxy instead. That the old ways no longer fit in the age of sciences and space travel. But while I lost a family, I gained a new one. And where your mother had none I gave her one. In our loneliness, we found that balance and comfort to give one another. I was never perfect, and neither was she, but we made things work.”

“Yeah, but,” Móni clicked her tongue, brushing a finger at a black petal, “he’s _different_.”

“So are you.”

“True.” She plucked the flower and inhaled its scent, missing him. “I don’t think I’m enough to change him.”

“You never know unless you try.”

Móni grew tired at the thought of her many attempts. “I have.”

“You’ve tried telling him what to do, not how you felt or what you want. There’s a difference.” Simera nodded with assurance at her own memory. “Trust me. I know. Your mother was the same. She hated being told what to do.”

“Remember when we tried getting her to ride on an erethri?” Móni grinned. “She was so mad!”

“Felt bad more bad for the erethri. What does one do when you’re a four-meter-tall, twenty-ton, creature with a screeching human on your back?”

“She still had fun.”

“That’s because she knew I had to make it up to her.”

“With what?”

Simera quirked a smile. “Let’s just say we had a very good night.”

“Ugh! Ma!” The devaronian boomed a deep laugh from the stomach. “With me there too!”

“You had your own room then. It’s not a big deal.”

“Wow. Okay! What if I walked in on you?”

“Walk in? Or sneak out?” Simera leaned back and watched Móni’s jaw fall.

“You knew I snuck out?”

“Of course, I did. I’m your mom.”

“Did Mother know?” Móni stared wide-eyed, almost frightful.

“She had me track you once or twice to make sure you didn’t leave the perimeters.”

“The perimeters…”

Móni stood away from Simera, aging and no longer the teen who was raised in the safety of Devaron’s deep jungles but a woman who had gone through many hardships to survive a very cruel galaxy. She met her mother’s green eyes, hard around the edges but there was a softness to them very few had the pleasure of knowing.

“Since I was conceived there was a plan for me, and she sheltered me from realizing them. I don’t know if I should understand or be upset about it.”

“There was only one threat we had control of keeping you from: Sheev. But the other… that was what worried Zahri.”

“Maybe she should have gone to the Jedi!” Móni couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, that maybe she would have had better control of her life if she was taught what she was earlier on. “I become a Knight or whatever, expose Palpatine for what he was, and there would have been no Empire.”

“It wouldn’t change your purpose. If anything, it would have sped up the process of them taking you away.”

“But at least I would have been—!” She needn’t have said it. The shadow of hurt cracking Simera’s serious composure was enough to make Móni regret even considering the thought. “Ma, I didn’t mean…” She knelt before her mother and put her head against a knee. “I was happy. You made me very happy. The years spent on Devaron are my most treasured memories and I wish for that again every day.”

Simera was a female of prowess. She was the foundation of their home and their protector. More, her love was unbounded for her wife and daughter, and always put on a face of resilience before Móni. There were times, though, she was not afraid to relieve herself from the burdens of strength and Zahri was always there to listen. This time, her wife wasn’t there to share the weight and knew it was her time to unfold the deepest parts of herself.

“I did my best to raise you along Zahri. Teach my ways, prepare you for the worlds, and maybe I was the one being the fool for not leaving Devaron to learn the type of survival one must know in a massive galaxy. Perhaps we held you too close to the earth when we should have allowed you to soar in the skies.”

Móni held the thick hands of a mother who hunted for their meals, wrestled with the jaws of the fiercest predators, toiled the fields for their crops, and carried her wife and daughter so many times to sleep.

“I’m not being fair.” She reintroduced herself to the white scars and bite marks that textured the skin, and the rough knuckles and finger pads. “There’s no one to blame but myself for my choices. Mother told me enough about what lied beyond Devaron and I only survived this long because of what you taught me. I just need to get myself together and stop complaining.”

Simera held Móni’s chin and lifted her face. “You’ve come a long way and I’m proud of you, girl. Don’t ever forget that.”

Móni collapsed into her mother’s arms in a tight embrace, committing to memory the scent of raindrop lilies in the early dawn. “I love you so much, Momma. And I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You’re alright.” She held Móni closer, her face scrunched in pain to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. “You’re alright.”

Devaron began to fade, the light dimming and the plants curling away into a mist.

“No.” Móni held Simera tighter. “Don’t go. Not yet.”

“I have to. My time passed already. Now you must live yours.”

“But I’m still afraid. And lost.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Remember what you need to do when you get lost in the jungle?”

“Don’t stop and eat the berries?”

“Ay, girl!” Simera held back a laugh. “Not that.”

Móni smiled and closed her eyes to pull out the instructions imprinted in her heart. “Don’t panic. Listen to the life around me and it will guide me to where I need to be. There is always a river that leads to home.”

“Exactly.” The laughter faded from her lips when she held Móni’s face in her hands, making sure she heard very carefully. “You need to do something for me.”

“What?”

“Do _not_ touch those holocron pieces.”

Confusion jolted Móni back. “But they can tell me everything I’ve been searching for. All my questions can be answered.”

Simera shook her head. “Some things are better left unanswered. Some things you’re not prepared to know, yet.”

“When will I be prepared?” Móni’s frustrations reached their peak. “I’ve been in the dark for too long and it’s time I know everything, so now’s my chance to.”

“I’m begging you.” Simera dropped her hold to Móni’s shoulders and gave her a desperate shake. “You’re not ready for the truth.” She was vanishing with the world along with her remaining options to convince her stubborn daughter. “Promise me.”

“I promise.” Móni was forced to say to her mother turning into a fog of dreams.

“Móni…” She knew that look. The glint of trouble lurking in the shadows of her daughter’s promise, but this time she couldn’t be there to help lift Móni off the ground when she fell with a bad scrape or black bruising. Simera couldn’t offer the support she was meant to give during what could possibly be the harshest stage in Móni’s life. All she could do was put her hopes and blessings in those who were alive to care for her. In the boy who admired her greatly.

Simera begged the Force’s everlasting presence to guide him toward the right decision for Móni.

“My love is always here in the Force, with you, and you’re never alone.”

Like an apparition faded into memory, Simera vanished and took Devaron with her, leaving Móni with a vacancy in her heart that wasn’t as harrowing as she expected. Her mother left a gift within the void she had carried her whole life and it was one she was in desperate need of for so long, how she wasn’t quite as alone as she thought after all.

**_Did you forget about me?_ **

“Oh, no,” Móni groaned. “Not you.”

She was transported through the gate and returned to the plane of white pathways that curved into different portals of worlds. The sheer number of gateways expanded across space, a testament to the limitless of time in the universe.

“We have a lot of catching up to do.”

The Rogue Jedi’s voice was not masked under the whispers of trillions but was crisp and clear. For the first time, Móni could describe it as a distinct tenor that would come across as kind if she hadn’t recognized the snide tone underneath. But what made her face construe in shock was the square jaw and sharp cheekbones of a man who had been tormenting her for years.

“Think I would have preferred to picture you without a face,” Móni wanted to look away from the dark pools within angular, thin eyes but she was also crossed with intrigue to finally look upon the first Sith. “This is kind of weird.”

“On this, I can agree.” He stepped around her on empty air, ancient robes with gold lining rippling around his form, and clasping the fabric together was the Sith’s emblem—a marking that had been lost since the fall of the Sith Empire. “Who knew you needed to be on the brink of death for me to finally get your attention?”

“I don’t plan on making it a habit so say what you need to say then I’m gone.”

“I have nothing to say.”

If the shock of knowing the first Sith’s appearance was not enough, the ruse certainly was. “ _Now_ you shut up?”

A long smile stretched across his golden complexion. “I’m going to show you.”

“Nope. No. Goodbye!” She prepared to return to the physical plain.

“Not this time.” He gripped her arm. “For once, you have no choice.”

Móni was sucked into another gate and spiraled through the cosmos and suns of star systems until she reached a planet covered in a red haze. Like swimming against a current she clawed from being taken by the planet’s gravitational pull, but it had waited far too long for her arrival and its impatience outmatched her rejection. She broke through the swelling clouds of fire where a gray planet illuminated with silver light resided beyond.

Its dark atmosphere brightened with blue lightning strikes to expose a dry desert with its flashes and a trapezoidal structure that dominated the barren lands. Móni’s metaphysical body went straight through the ground and was transported into a temple that housed statues of ginormous proportions, safeguarding the ancients which resided within.

“Ah!” Móni scratched at her head from the violent whispers of those who suffered, their greed loud and obtrusive for their desires had never been met.

“Annoying aren’t they?” The Rogue Jedi waved a lazy hand over her face as if swatting a bug away and the voices ceased. “It’s what happens when you search for immortality—you never find peace.”

“Where am I?” She faced a hooded figure, its stone face undiscernible, and wielding a staff in its cracked hands.

“We are in Ixigul. A Sith stronghold.”

“Maul’s never told me about it, and he talks a lot about this stuff.”

“Because he was never told of its existence. Not even Darth Vader knows.”

Móni hummed with mild intrigue. Even being among Sith ruins didn’t make the prospect any more exciting than when Maul explained its history.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to go into this long lecture about the Sith’s lineage and ‘glory’.”

“I _am_ the lineage.”

“Here we go…”

“We reached the peak of excellence. No longer bound by laws to keep what made sentients alive and real. There was life in emotions.” The pretension broke away and a vulnerable being was exposed. “In love.”

“Isn’t romance frowned upon with the Sith too?”

“Darth Bane did that,” he scoffed. “He regressed to some of the Jedi’s teachings of control to maintain order.”

“I mean…” Móni squinted at an unknown language chiseled into a plaque at a statue’s base. “Palpatine achieved galactic domination because of it.”

The Rogue Jedi bowed away, silk locks of ebony curtaining the sharpness in his stare, and spoke no more.

They navigated to a crumbling amphitheater where the rows of seats climbed into shadows at the cavern’s highest point. Those who once occupied them faced a staircase that led to a throne made of black stone.

Móni tilted her head at its framework, trying to make sense of the spikes that protruded out of it, “Sith Order was pretty big.”

“It was.” The Rogue Jedi scanned the expansive interior and what it once was in its age of glory. “Many Jedi agreed with my views. Sympathized with my suffering. Felt my pain. But I didn’t lure them with promises of power or immortality. What we wanted was freedom.”

“I don’t think the Jedi Order was what it used to be in your time,” she explained. “U’lis left voluntarily when Kyp’s mother got pregnant. The gigoran elder loved being in the Order but knew her purpose was meant elsewhere. And Nyla is training Kyp despite the rules the Order had for taking on someone so old.”

“And despite its changes,” he dragged a hand over the throne’s armrest, “it fell. Like our Empire.”

The Rogue Jedi sank into the seat and sighed upon the return of its first ruler, “We’re not here to discuss the Jedi and their flaws. They’re gone (finally). You’re here because the Sith play a role in whatever it is you are.”

“You don’t know!” Móni threw her arms into the air. “What is the point of you?”

“Your body is close to recovering from your stupid stunt, so I’d appreciate it if you would shut up before you wake up.”

“There is no way I can take whatever you have to say seriously in that chair.”

He twisted his body to scan the throne, “What’s wrong with it?”

Móni ascended the steps and gestured to the dramatic image meant to inspire fear to those who bowed before it.

“You know what? It’s fine. It suits you,” she said with ridicule slipping past her smile.

A cold chill raced down her spine when the soft wind of whispers grazed her skin. They sprung forth into physical forms of beings in dark robes and hooded faces, circling around the Rogue Jedi with gold emblems of their Order gleaming in the shadows. Móni retreated onto a step, overwhelmed by the thick fumes of hate.

“We are the Sith.” They spoke as one, harrowing voices echoing in the empty caverns of their past.

They remained steadfast, tall, and imposing figures without faces yet Móni could feel their stares gouging out her insides.

“Alright. No more throne comments,” she mumbled.

A shriek exploded out of her mouth when one swept past from behind her, their height at least a meter above her and a body mass as thin as a blade. Móni’s jaw fell when a long face with a flat nose shined gold eyes on her.

“Plagueis.” The name fell out.

He blinked slowly with a deep frown settling in. “Your mother might have been human, but she had better manners than most. Unlike you.”

“What manners? You’re dead.”

Plagueis’ glare was wide and unrelenting which Móni battle against with her own stare of indifference.

“Enough.” A female rung true in their ears. “Put your vendettas aside, for now, Darth Plagueis, and let us proceed with the instructions for this woman.”

“Darth Noctyss is right,” another spoke. “We finally have her where we need her. Let us not waste any more precious time.”

With calm poise, Plagueis resumed up the stairs and sided with the male who spoke earlier, his small eyes never leaving Móni’s sights.

“Durmónia,” the Rogue Jedi began, confidence reigning in his posture and mannerisms, “as you know the Sith have long since searched for the means of immortality. Many searched the ruins of ancient civilizations who once ruled the galaxy and commanded the Force when there were no Orders to dictate how one must use it. And in their search, some discoveries were made, including the existence of those who created you.”

Móni tapped her lips in thought. “Like the Zeffi?”

“Zeffo,” the Rogue Jedi sighed his correction and rubbed a temple. “They were researched but what we are talking about is something far older than them. When the Force was new. When the galaxy was at its infancy.”

“Abbas mentioned a name,” Móni said. “So did Soter.”

“The Whills.” He nodded. “Their name has been convoluted into something akin to the Force in our recent millennium—Guardians of the Whills, the Whill of the Force, to name a few—when that is entirely untrue. They are not one and the same. We think their objective is to seek order in the universe and this galaxy is just the start of their ploys.”

“So…” The wheels were turning and Móni couldn’t be sure if what was being implied could be true. Maybe not to any Jedi, but to her, the possibility was not ignored. “The Sith have been planning galactic control to combat this thing.”

“Ha!” A male broke into a hearty laugh. “Told you she wasn’t stupid.”

“I never said she was, Darth Sadow,” another grieved his annoyance. “I said she was difficult.”

“That’s not what I remember, Darth Caldoth.”

The Rogue Jedi pressed a fist into his cheek. “That was the intent in the Order’s earliest existence, but many succumbed to grand schemes of power and forgot the reason why we sought domination in the first place. Although I praise Sidious’ bold approach toward something far more powerful than him, control is not possible. He’s getting greedy, as usual.”

“Where are they?” Móni stepped close to the galaxy’s greatest enemy and sought their counsel. “How can I get to them?”

“You cannot,” Darth Caldoth spoke. “They do not reside within the physical realm. Their immortality was what we searched for and tried to achieve. However, we soon learned these Shamans of the Whills and Force Priestesses have purposely kept the path to immortality secret and only allowed certain individuals to live beyond it.”

“Qui-Gon,” one whispered with bitter hate.

“It sounds like I should interact with the holocron pieces—”

“No.” A large male broke out of the circle with heavy footsteps, and the dark command in his voice quieted Móni in an instant. “You are not ready to face the truth. You are still inferior to your own weaknesses.”

“I say, let her,” Darth Noctyss opposed. “She has to strengthen her mind and throwing her into the fire is the most constructive way to teach her.”

“Although we can all agree with Darth Noctyss’ method,” said Darth Sadow, “the woman is too unpredictable to know how it would turn out in the end. I think I may have to agree with Darth Revan on this. She has almost conquered her strengths in the Living Force, but not in the Cosmic. And that is where their power resides.”

Their clashing opinions rose in waves, forgetting the fate they were deciding for was in the room with them and who had her own thoughts on the matter.

“Hey!” Móni commanded the Sith into silence, her Force presence overpowering theirs, and shook the stronghold. “I’m the one who gets to decide what’s good for me. And if I think going through the holocron’s past is my best bet then I’ll do it.”

“That’s reassuring,” the Rogue Jedi mocked. “How you got to be here was because of what you thought was best for you.”

“If it’s my choice,” she countered. “No one has the right to say what decides my fate. Not even the Force. Not even those who made me.”

“But your choices can lead you straight to them.” He stood tall, dominating the room. “And that cannot happen.”

“I’m done waiting around for the ‘right time’. The ‘right choice’.” Móni faced the Order. “I am exhausted. I don’t care why I was created. I don’t care what Palpatine wants with me. This is going to end because my life belongs to no one but me and I realize now that there’s no escape. In life… in death, until they die.”

“Side with Darth Sidious,” Darth Noctyss said. “He can help realize your true potential. With his dark magick and Force abilities combined with your unlimited prowess, the two of you can conquer the universe. Then kill him.”

“I can’t do that,” Móni responded. “Not after what he’s done to the people I care about. Plus, I already promised someone else the galaxy.”

“The Nightbrother,” Darth Caldoth sneered his disgust. “He vanquished his Sith title. It would be an embarrassment if he ruled.”

“On this, we can agree,” Darth Sadow spoke under his breath.

Móni shook her head and wiped a hand over the disbelief spreading over her face. “I hope you know I’m not doing any this to bring your groupies the glory they couldn’t do themselves.”

Darth Sadow made a sharp turn of his head. “Groupies?”

“As far as you know.” The Rogue Jedi smiled wide. “Whether you see into the holocron’s past or not, there is no doubt in my mind the Dark Side will latch onto you and adhere to the makings of a Sith.”

“Uh, I don’t think so,” Móni scoffed. “If living wasn’t exhausting enough, being angry all the time will definitely kill me.”

There was an accordance in their feelings as if Móni missed a secret she should know about. The gravity of their stares was intensified when Plagueis reflected what they masked within their cowls: a shrew gaze that ridiculed.

Darth Revan approached Móni, his wide shoulders filling the robes, and the traces of pale lips moved in the hood’s shadow, “You may not carry the title of Sith, but you are on its path.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not a Sith.”

“You have known fear. Felt anger. Experienced hate. And carry your suffering like an old friend.” Revan bent close enough to where Móni caught the glints of gold irises. “You are more Sith than your master.”

“But I don’t want control or power or revenge,” she stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Isn’t that what makes a Sith?”

“Recite the Code to me. Recite it!”

Móni rocked back at the spike in anger when she did not respond immediately—unfazed by what was so commonplace amongst Dark Side users.

“Peace is a lie. There is only Passion. Through Passion I gain Strength. Through Strength I gain Power. Through Power I gain Victory. Through Victory my chains are Broken.” She choked out the final piece. “The Force shall free me.”

“Your strength lies in your emotions and what gives you power. Victory is on the horizon and soon you will have the freedom you desire. This can only be accomplished, however, though the Force.” Revan’s form blended into the darkness, the last piece of himself glowing brightly before he disappeared entirely. “Do not squander your triumph with hapless desperation.”

One by one the Sith fazed out into a whisp of shadow except for Plagueis who retained his form.

“Sidious intends to weaponize you,” he said. “You will be his blade and Darth Vader his shield. That is how he pictures his perfect Empire to play out.”

“You don’t want him to succeed?” Móni can imagine there was still a rancid taste in his mouth from being killed by an apprentice, but their goal and teachings live on.

“He’s going to ruin the Sith because of narcissism and underestimating his enemies. Because he fails to understand the bonds between sentients, he does not know how to unravel them. It will be his undoing.”

Móni gasped. “You want _me_ to win?”

Plaguies’ body evaporated into smoke and echoed close to her. “To conquer.”

When the Rogue Jedi was all who remained, Móni saluted to the man and prepared to see her way out, “This was fun. Gotta go now.”

“Not so fast,” he emerged to her side in an instant. “You may be attached to Maul, but he cannot train you anymore.”

“What? Why?”

“There’s nothing more he can teach you. Go to Atollon and there you can reach your capabilities. Or go to Sidious. Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Or…” Móni extended the note for a considerable duration and the Rogue Jedi looked ready to disassociate from her entirely.

“Force Echo the holcron parts.” He washed his hands from the consequences, not wanting to control the woman any longer than he needed to. “It would certainly speed up the process,” he slid a knowing glance her way, “and keep you at his side.”

“I’m not abandoning him after everything we’ve gone through.”

The Rogue Jedi swallowed a hard lump in his throat when he met eyes that sparkled in a way that reminded him so vividly of his choices and abandoning the Order. He shut Móni away and a woman with pale gold eyes appeared for a fleeting moment.

“I know.” He pressed a thumb to her forehead. “The choice is yours.”

Móni was vaulted out of the Citadel, into the storming atmosphere, out of Ixigul, and into the white crossroads of time. Then nothing.

Abbas dropped the bent blaster and pointed a bony finger at the woman hopping off the med table.

“You will sink to the bottom of this lake with the facility, even if I have to go down with you.”

“That’s nice.”

Móni opened her feelings to the Force and stretched out her senses.

 _He’s not far_.

She swept past Abbas’ bumbling protests and crossed a bridge that suspended over the rising flood. The Imperials continued to put holes in the bubbled dome, expediting its destruction and raising panic among the rebels who were diving toward the structure’s sunken floor for their escape.

“Do you understand what you are capable of?” Abbas huffed, his frail body keeping in pace as best he could with Móni’s larger strides.

“No,” she responded with complete sincerity. “I have no idea. But I’m not a threat unless you make me one.”

“You are _made_ to be one.”

“So, what?” Móni whirled at the man who cowered under her bright glare. “The way I see it, the Whills made a huge mistake in granting me certain liberties of freedom because that means I can fight back and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to make them regret ever making me by creating a life of my choosing and no one is going to stop me. Not you, not Palpatine, the Force, the rebellion, and not even—”

 _Maul_. She shook away the thought, concerned it even appeared.

“And if I fail,” Móni continued, “then you have my permission to put a bolt in my brains. But not now.” She patted his shoulder with a forced smile.

Abbas’ lips disappeared behind his mustache from pressing them tightly together. “You are nothing like Zahri.”

“Think I take more after Ma,” she agreed.

Móni fixated on a bundle of darkness and rage that had become her greatest companion over the years.

“How long was I out for?”

“Over nine hours,” Abbas replied.

“Felt longer…”

A blue sphere appeared just beyond a bridge and unable to contain her excitement, flew to it with outstretched hands. She felt for the orb with the Force, how it functioned and its weaknesses then unraveled its form from its base.

Upon landing, she undid the binders with a wave of her hand and took in his crimson skin, black markings, and ivory horns like the first day she laid eyes on him.

“Hey, handsome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably were expecting some of the major Sith Lords from Legends... I considered them but figured to make use of some of the ones made in Canon (they're there so might as well). 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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